


As It Should Be

by shayera



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ancestor-Era, Gen, Grimdarkness, Other, Post-Scratch AU, Torture, the human disease called friendship, troll jegus is everyone's moirail, troll society sure is messed up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:50:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 128,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shayera/pseuds/shayera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kids don't just scratch the game - they break it, forcing it to eject them back into reality. However, it doesn't send them back home.</p><p>The four humans find themselves scattered on Alternia, and it's not even the Alternia they had been told about. Their troll friends are there, but they're not the same.</p><p>Even staying alive long enough to find each other again might be easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A general note on continuity: this story takes a left turn from canon before the Cascade flash. John is god tier, but the other three kids aren't.)

_Sixteen children meet in between._

_It is called the Furthest Ring for being unimaginably far from everything, but at the same time, it is between every crack. It is between sessions, between universes, between eras. It is far out and deep inside, everywhere and nowhere._

_In between, there exist no air and no light, no time and no space, save for what its visitors bring with them in their minds. They breathe because they think they do; they see because they want to; time and space seem to be there because without them, visitors would go insane._

_There are sixteen children, but any observer would have sworn there were more. Each of them multiple, images of could-have-beens and would-have-beens and never-weres drifting in and out of existence in the corner of their eyes. Causality is as void as everything else._

_Sixteen children gather here, to meet and touch for the first and final time, and to do what needs to be done. They hesitate, but more than that, they are determined._

_They could follow the rules. Scratch the game and start over._

_Instead, they break it._

***

The first thing John noticed as he slowly drifted back into existence was that there was a breeze. There was a blessed, warm waft of air moving across his face, and that's what convinced him that he was alive and back in reality. He had no idea where, and for the moment he felt too exhausted to even wonder about it, but he was away from the horrifying nothingness of the Furthest Ring. That meant they had made it. He didn't open his eyes, but his mouth twisted into a smile. It was good to be alive.

He breathed deeply, feeling the air in his lungs. It was hot and humid, smelling strange, like a foreign country when you step off an airplane, but it wasn't unpleasant. He realized he was lying on his back, on top of something soft but prickly - perhaps a lawn? Yes, there was definitely grass poking at his arms and legs through the thin fabric of his clothes. It was nice. He didn't feel any need to move at all. Perhaps he would just stay here and rest until Jade started poking him with a stick or Rose told him now was not a good time to sleep or Dave tried to draw something ironic on his face.

Except... He could hear the wind rustling through leaves, and he could hear the soft chirping of some kind of wildlife, but even listening carefully, he could hear no one's breath but his own.

John blinked his eyes open. There was a thick canopy of red-pink leaves overhead, which looked pretty cool actually, but he didn't care all that much. He pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked around. He didn't really need to, but he refused to believe anything before it was confirmed. They had been _right beside him_ , after all.

"Rose!" he called, eyes darting over the area. "Dave! Jade!" His voice sank along with his heart. "Anyone?" Predictably, there was no reply. He stumbled to his feet and tried calling again, louder, but that didn't do any good either.

The place did look like some kind of lawn, though not exactly well-tended, and the grass came in every color from teal to dark red. There were mountains in the distance in several directions. He found himself in the shade of a large tree, but beyond that he could see the cloudless sky, blue but with an unnatural hint of purple that made it seem much more ominous than a bright clear sky should be able to. This obviously wasn't Earth. John was alone on an alien planet.

"Ugh." He hung his head and rubbed his face absentmindedly. His skin was stinging for some reason. Alien planets were cool and all, but he was so tired, and he had sort of looked forward to a break and getting back to Earth and having things be normal for a while. Wasn't that what they had tried to make the game do? He hadn't really understood everything Karkat and Jade and Kanaya had babbled, but the idea had been to force the game to reject them and get them back where they belonged, hadn't it? He had imagined that Earth would be back, and no one would be dead, and Dad would be alive too, and he would give him a big hug and tell him about everything he had done, and Dad would be so proud of him, and John would even be ready to eat cake at that point. He had really thought about it. He would use his windy thing to go see Dave and Rose and Jade and they would have a weird sort of victory party that involved movies and music and video games and possibly a pillow fight and perhaps the trolls would be there too and he would be able to show them earth human movies and prank them and it would be the best thing ever.

He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Alright, this was stupid. He wasn't on Earth. Which meant this was probably the trollplanet - Alternia, was it? With the trolls. That couldn't be so bad, although maybe he'd have to watch some of Karkat's stupid movies instead. He wondered if Rose and Dave and Jade had ended up somewhere else on this planet, or if they were properly back to Earth and the game had just made a mistake with him. At least it was no wonder that the trolls weren't in sight. They had probably all been dropped off in their homes. Hives? Anyway, all he had to do was to find out where everyone was, and then they could start sorting things out. It would be fine.

John reached for his sylladex, going for the Cosbymufftops. He couldn't find them. In fact, he realized as he flailed about with his hand, he couldn't find his sylladex at all. There was nothing, and that more than anything else brought him close to panicking. How was he supposed to contact anyone if he couldn't access Pesterchum? How was anyone supposed to contact _him_?

Suddenly desperate, John patted his blue pajamas thing for pockets, but of course there weren't any. And if there had been, they would have been empty, because he certainly couldn't remember storing anything anywhere other than the sylladex. Who would have thought sylladexes couldn't cross universes? He facepalmed hard, but that just made his forehead sting worse. In fact, all this patting around had made him realize that his skin felt slightly sore all over his body. He pulled up a sleeve and frowned at his forearm – it was starting to go red, as if he had been out in the sun for too long. Sure it was hot here, and whatever material the god pajamas was made out of wasn't very thick, but he was fully dressed and in the deep shade of the tree – how long had he been out for, anyway?

That wasn't important, though. The important thing was to get unlost and find someone – anyone – who could help him find his friends. He raised a hand and tentatively tried to make the wind whirl around it. It worked, to his great relief. He could still do the windy thing. Raising both arms horizontally by his sides, he took off, straight up, piercing the pink alien foliage and emerged hovering above the treetop.

He failed to be prepared for the way the unblocked sun beat down on his back like a white-hot sledgehammer. The sudden pain made the wind slip from his grasp and he fell handlessly back down, knocking into branches and just barely managing to cushion himself before slamming into the ground. He whimpered as he had to move to get back up on hands and knees. Dave would probably have called him pathetic, but he didn't care. God, that hurt.

God, that was _stupid_. He had all the warning in the world, with the sunburn and everything, and come to think of it he was sure someone had mentioned at some point or other that the Alternian sun was dangerous. He just hadn't ever thought that information was going to be important in any way. Stupid stupid dumb. He steeled himself and pulled up a sleeve to examine his arm again. The back of it, which had been closest to directly exposed to the sun, stung at least three times as much as before, and he could have sworn it was going redder in front of his eyes. His entire back felt the same. It was like he had tried to lean against a burning stove or something.

He got back to his feet, slowly and tentatively. How could anyone live in a place where the sun actively tried to _kill_ you? He grimaced and figured he had to give his troll friends a hard time about that later. Once he found them, of course. Which would hopefully be soon, because even though the shade from the tree helped a lot, it obviously wasn't blocking the sun completely. Basically, the sun was going to kill him quickly if he left the shade, and slowly if he didn't. This sucked.

…alright, so maybe he was still a god or whatever and wouldn't actually die – he definitely didn't feel very heroic right now – but it still didn't seem like a fun prospect. This whole situation sucked so much.

He found himself wondering what a sun like that looked like, but he caught himself and violently shook his head before he could take that thought any further. He really _really_ didn't want to know.

Reviewing what he had seen in that short moment above the treetop, he had to conclude that there had been some kind of a building relatively close to here. All he could recall was a glimpse of a small square shape on the other side of the low hill in front of him, but it must have been a building. Even if it was just a shed, maybe he could hide from the sun in there? And it could be a house, with people. Or a hive with trolls, but same thing. If he was really lucky, perhaps even someone he knew would be there. He hoped that Vriska had rubbed off some of her luck on him. She didn't need all of it, did she?

John took a deep breath and summoned the wind again. He couldn't stay here, and the building seemed like his best chance by far. He just had to get there. At least now he knew what the sunshine felt like, so it wouldn't be as overwhelming. It would all be a matter of steeling himself and getting there as quickly as possible before he got burnt to a crisp or whatever. The wind should be able to take him there in a matter of seconds. He could handle that, and then he would be safe. Or at least safer. He clenched his teeth and flew off.

He let the wind carry him close to the ground but as fast as he could manage. It was like swimming through fire. No, it was like being chased by a fire, because the heat was behind him and not in front of him, but it was definitely a like fire if not a frying pan in the way it hurt and burned and how the hell could this be sunshine and _fuck_ it hurt.

He had no idea how long it actually took to reach the building, but it was longer than he expected. At one point he realized he must have blown himself off course, because he glimpsed the building in the corner of his eye to the left, and then he had to turn around, head averted to avoid looking at the sun. But he got there, safely on the opposite side, stopping in the shade and shivering. He wasn't even going to look this time. He didn't want to see his skin now, because if it looked anything like it felt like it would probably be ugly. He felt faint.

John steadied himself with a hand on the wall. Ow, the side of his hand was sore, too. He was pretty certain that sunburn wasn't supposed to work like this, and had an urge to tell that to the Alternian sun, but it probably wouldn't listen. And, right, he was supposed to try to get indoors.

The building was a bit larger than he had thought. Definitely not just a shed; in fact, there were even two stories. There was a many-paned window close to where he was standing, but it was pitch black. Maybe it was covered with something from the inside to not let sunshine in? Further away, though, there seemed to be – yes, there was a door. He walked over to the it, grunting when he had to move his sore legs. The soft fabric of the god pajamas felt coarse like it was full of cookie crumbs. Ew.

He knocked. Knocking on a door was universal, right? He didn't see any doorbell, so he couldn't think of anything else to do. Heartbeats passed and nothing happened. He wished fervently that it would be a familiar face that opened the door. How sympathetic would a random troll be to an alien stranger with a sunburn dropping in from nowhere? Probably not very much. Unless they'd be like Elliott in E.T. and try to feed him candy, and the thought would have been amusing if it weren't for the fact that the silence was stretching unbearably, and it didn't seem like anyone was going to open the door at all. John knocked again, harder. Still nothing.

Eventually he tried to turn the knob himself. He didn't really want to, because it felt very rude to go inside someone else's house uninvited, but it was sort of an emergency. He felt seriously light-headed, and his entire back and left side were burning. Getting somewhere that was cool was kind of urgent. Unsurprisingly, though, the door was locked and refused to open. He whined and knocked again, more desperately.

He could break in. He could do the windy thing on the house and blow the door away or something. But then whoever lived in here would never want to help him, and he really needed help. Besides, he wasn't sure he was up to summoning that much wind right now, at least not with enough control to make sure the entire house wasn't blown away. He felt more like crap for every passing moment.

He raised his hand to knock again, but at that moment the door finally opened. Not with a creak, but with a shoosh, door sliding aside to reveal two dark-clad, hooded people on the other side. John's eyes met the shorter one's, and he managed to crack a smile. Gray skin, nubby horns, snarling fangs – all familiar. He was lucky after all.

"Hi Karkat," he said faintly. Black spots were closing in on his vision, but he knew things would be fine.


	2. Dave

Time passed. Seconds flowed like beats to a drum, the buzz of a living city going about its business, an eternal evershifting rhythm that was both familiar and unknown. Above all, it was real. Dave realized that he had to be alive. He was away from the neverwhere of the Furthest Ring, and after that any place where the beat of time rise and fell was like going from a desert to the Niagara Falls, even though he was slightly cold and his cheek rested against a hard surface that smelled like Jade's hellhound had taken a dump on it.

Of course they had made it. It wasn't as if he'd been worried, nevermind what he might have said to Rose. That had been purely ironic.

The beat of the city was odd, though. It was hard to put a finger on it, as if someone had scratched the record in the wrong place and the rhythm had gone offbeat while still sounding essentially the same. He was fairly certain that wherever he was, it wasn't Houston. He was also fairly certain that he was lying face down in the gutter. It wasn't that he felt too exhausted to move out of it. No, he was merely ironically pretending to be a corpse for now. Any moment now John would start shaking him, or Jade would ruffle his hair, or Rose would say something appropriately snarky, and then he would get up.

Minutes passed, though, and there was not a sound beyond the indistinct buzz of the city. The stink of the gutter was starting to be a little much. Finally, he had to open his eyes and confirm that he was alone. Well, anything else would have been too easy, he supposed. He pulled himself up to sit against the nearest wall and adjusted his shades. He was in a narrow alleyway between one extremely tall building – strike that, a skyscraper – and one lower, featureless wall, perhaps seven or eight feet high and topped with barbed wire. The sky above was a black starless city night sky, but there was weak light and moving shadows pouring in from one end of the alley. How he'd ended up in here – the alley was no more than three feet across, at most, and there were scattered pieces of unidentifiable junk half-blocking the entrance – was anyone's guess. Perhaps the game had intentionally seen fit to materialize him in the most undignified position it could think of. Never mind. He'd be ironically hobo tonight. Besides, he supposed it was better than ending up in the middle of a street and getting run over by a chainsmoking lorry driver.

Almost automatically, he activated the iShade function on his shades and scanned his chumroll. All offline. The trolls, too, though he didn't suppose he'd ever see them online again and no way he was going to miss her. Them. Anyway. If Rose and John and Jade had gotten into trouble he'd hear from them, and right now he was going to assume they were alright. Just offline, dealing with wherever they had found themselves stranded. Like himself. He turned the iShades off.

Seemed to be a trafficked street over there. That would be the way to proceed them. No use hanging in an alley like a chump waiting to be mugged.

He rose to his feet and brushed himself off, deciding that he really didn't want to know what that damp spot above his left knee was. His red and white shirt had a tear along the left sleeve. The ironical hoboness was getting better and better. Straining his eyes in the dim light – no, of course he wasn't going to take his shades off – he noticed with little interest that the skyscraper had oddly shaped multi-paned windows on the second floor and above. Must be some modern shit. He started to make his way towards the busy street, stepping over mounds of slimy guck while resisting the uncool urge to poke them to find out what the hell they were made of. At least one of them looked disturbingly like a giant slug. But he wasn't in a position to play with garbage, ironically or not. He didn't even know where he was, and getting home was going to be a bitch. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he had no money that weren't boondollars. He'd think of something.

Dave had reached one of the things blocking the alley – the rusted metal skeleton of a stranded whale for all he could tell – when something large and white swooped down on him, making him instinctively duck and press himself against the wall. Ninja smooth. There would have been a sword in his hand too, but to his dismay his strife specibus didn't return anything when he reached for it. It wasn't supposed to be empty. He hadn't emptied it. He suppressed the suddenly plausible idea that he really _had_ been mugged before ending up in the alley.

Fortunately, this aggressor didn't seem all that aggressive. It was a large pearly white bird, crowlike but about twice as big, now perched on the rusted metal frame a few feet away. It had five shining black eyes on its forehead, all of them staring curiously at Dave. Dave found himself staring back.

"Sup," he said, not really knowing what else to say. Giant white five-eyed crows were a perfectly normal thing that you met in town every day. "What're you looking at?"

The crow, as expected, didn't reply, but didn't move either.

"Look, I know I'm gorgeous and all, but I have had enough of feathery assholes vying for my attention for at least two lifetimes. I don't need to deal with this right now." He waved his hands to shoo it away, but right at that moment he was distracted by a soft purple light flooding the alley from the other direction. Turning away from the bird, he barely noticed that it did indeed take flight and disappear, apparently not all that interested in him after all.

Behind him, though, a large purple moon had climbed above the featureless wall and was looking down on him like an innocent virgin on prom night. No, try that again. A _purple moon_. It was more like an innocent elephant that went on its merry way and just so happened to trample the poor mouse without meaning to. The mouse being Dave's mind.

"Fuck."

The game had ejected him in the wrong place. This wasn't Earth at all. He made himself stay still, just staring at the fucking unnatural moon and not do any sort of pirouettes off any sort of handles. If it wasn't Earth, it was probably Alternia, right? Right. He wouldn't put it past that freaky game to drop him off on planet X in galaxy Y, but better go with the scenario that had the most potential for making sense right now. Funny how that didn't make him feel any better.

" _Fuck_."

If it was Alternia, and unless Terezi had exaggerated to a level of irony he didn't believe her capable of, he had just been lucky as a house blackjack dealer to have noticed it before he stepped out on the street. For some reason he didn't fancy getting shoved into the troll justice system for unauthorized alien invasion or whatever they would throw at him. Cool as he was, he didn't exactly look like a troll.

Dave moved further away from the street and then leaned his back against the wall again, all casual-like. There must be options here. What about his friends? Were they here too, somewhere? Did the game throw all of them at the mercy of the trollplanet, or just him? He guessed it would be preferable if they were safely back on Earth. And no, his stomach was _not_ just flipping at the thought of being the only human in the universe. That's kind of a cool thought, actually, if a bit melodramatic. In any case, it wasn't like he didn't know anyone on this planet.

He touched the switch that activated the iShades again. Still no one online, but this time he didn't care. He flipped the trollslum roll down to Terezi's handle and opened a chat window.

TG: hey tez  
\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] does not exist --

Dave blinked at the immediate response. He tried again.

TG: this thing tells me you dont exist  
\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] does not exist --  
TG: haha very funny  
\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] does not exist --  
TG: right  
\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] does not exist --  
TG: if you start existing any time soon give me a text ok  
\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] does not exist --

At this point Dave became very aware of his heart pounding. What the hell. Terezi didn't exist, what the _fuck_ did that even mean? His fists clenched before he knew it, but he wasn't going to panic about this. Computer errors happen, man. He opened up another chat window.

TG: vantas  
\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] does not exist --  
TG: fuck you  
\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] does not exist --

Someone else, then.

TG: roses girlfriend bro  
\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] does not exist --

Anyone.

TG: time girl  
\-- apocalypseArisen [AA] does not exist --

TG: shitty rapper  
\-- adiosToreador [AT] does not exist --

TG: spidertroll  
\-- arachnidsGrip [AG] does not exist --

TG: juggalo dude  
\-- terminallyCapricious [TC] does not exist --

TG: freaky strongman  
\-- centaursTesticle [CT] does not exist --

"Fuck you all." Dave turned the iShades off and just barely stopped himself from punching the wall in sincere frustration. Instead, he punched it ironically. It still made his knuckles hurt.

Maybe this wasn't the trollplanet after all? Maybe the incipisphere had spun him around like a babysitter with an enthusiastic five-year-old and let go in a random direction to see where he would tumble. Or worse. Maybe it _was_ Alternia, but the trolls he knew hadn't made it back here. Not cool, man. Not cool at all.

He felt reluctant to turn the iShades on again, but no one would say that Dave Strider was afraid of bad news, and he hadn't tried his human friends yet.

TG: hey jade  
TG: are you there

She wasn't. Her name was gray and obviously offline, just like everyone else's. But Dave found himself breathing a sigh of something suspiciously similar to relief when nothing told him that Jade didn't exist.

TG: im assuming you are  
TG: or will be in the future  
TG: so technically im addressing this to future jade at the point when she will be online  
TG: youre the witch of space  
TG: i think im lost  
TG: yeah of course im lost in a really cool way  
TG: dave strider wouldnt get lost like a little red riding hood in the forest just waiting for the big bad wolf to show up and eat her  
TG: im in an alien city  
TG: in a slimy alley like an alien mutant rat actually i think i saw an alien mutant crow  
TG: could be alternia  
TG: or not  
TG: pesterchum says the trolls dont exist so i dunno  
TG: anyway ill go find out more  
TG: dont worry im a ninja

If Jade was here, she'd get back to him. And hopefully she wouldn't get herself into too much trouble on her own. Dave pulled up two more chat windows.

TG: rose  
TG: great you still exist  
TG: wait that wasnt the best thing to say to you was it  
TG: anyway the trolls seem to have disappeared and im not kidding about that  
TG: im in an alley in a city somewhere with a purple moon almost but not completely unlike derse  
TG: get back to me and well compare notes

TG: hey egbert  
TG: where are you man  
TG: we screwed up crashing the game  
TG: i cant reach the trolls on pesterchum  
TG: but im in an alien city  
TG: indiana strider and the alien backalley  
TG: im gonna explore  
TG: later

Neither of them bounced back anything about non-existence either. It didn't have to mean anything – all three of them were still offline, and anything could have happened – but at the very least Pesterchum hadn't decided that they were null and void. So far so good.

Some of his energy recovered, Dave went back to the rusty skeleton object that blocked the exit to the street and started climbing through it, slowly and quietly. He stayed out of the light, dim as it was – apart from the purple illumination of the moon, there was a row of softly glowing spheres seemingly suspended in midair above the street – and crept closer to the opening. He needed to know what was out there.

There. There was a whole group of them, singing off-tune and making noise and passing close enough to the alley that Dave could almost have reached out and touched them. They didn't notice him, but he got a good look at them. Gray skin, bright yellow eyes and orange horns that poked up from their black hair in various shapes. That settled it. He crept back deeper into the alley and pestered Jade again.

TG: ok  
TG: i saw trolls  
TG: its alternia alright

Dave decided that the thing he wanted to do was to not be right here and now, and ideally he had a very snazzy way of dealing with that. If he skipped forward to the end of the night, someone might be online, and he could always go back again if there turned out to be anything he ought to be doing right now. He reached out for his timetables, fingertips ready to scratch an ironically meaningful 4:13 hours into the future.

Nothing. Just like his broken sword, the timetables failed to appear. Jegus. This shit was just one heartbreak after another. Going through the motions more slowly he examined the space where his sylladex ought to be and found nothing. Not even blank cards. Emptier than a candy store after Halloween. Seemed like all he had was the stuff he was wearing.

Now the universe was just fucking him turnways for the hell of it. What kind of Knight of Time got himself stuck unarmed in an unknown location on an alien planet, friends missing or apparently nonexistent, and with no means to go unlinear?

Whatever. He wasn't going to stay here. He was going to get out of this fucking mess and kick some well-deserved ass, once he found out whose ass deserved kicking. For the moment he settled on kicking a slimy heap at his feet. It did an impressive pirouette in the air, and in the purple moonlight Dave could make out the shape of it more clearly. Not a slug, but it did look like some radically huge dead larvae. Awesome. See, there were perks to this place after all.

He went deeper into the alley, the moonlight just barely enough for him to avoid stumbling on slimy dead grubs and whatever else was discarded here. The skyscraper had no windows on the ground floor, and the other wall was plain and sandy under his fingers. Soon, predictably, there was a dead end. The other exit was permanently blocked by the back of a one-story brick building.

That was okay, actually. A small building was a whole lot less of a challenge than a lit street full of troll strangers. It wasn't like Dave wasn't experienced on the matter of rooftops. He took a few steps back for a running start and jumped onto the eaves, getting his arms up first and swinging his legs the rest of the way in one quick motion. Ninjas in bright orange jumpsuits would pray to be as smooth as he was.

The roof was slightly sloped at the edges, but flat in the middle and very easy to walk on. From the slightly higher vantage point, Dave noticed there was a second moon in the sky that had been blocked from his view before. A green one. Obviously this planet didn't care about mocking the Incipisphere by having purple and gold. Or it was being ironically different. Dave could appreciate that.

On the other side of the low building was a backstreet, darker and less trafficked than the one at the other end of the alley, lined with smaller buildings barely larger than the one Dave was currently standing on. Beyond the line of buildings was a walled compound of some kind; the one with the barbed wire. A factory, maybe. Dave didn't care. He picked the direction away from the skyscraper and strode off along the roofs.

No one ever thinks to look up. He'd be safe as a snuggly bunny on the rooftops. He climbed the roof of the next two-story building and ran, jumping from one roof to the next without even stopping. He was a flash of parcour lightning. Down on the ground trolls would sometimes walk past, and a couple of times a car or something made its way along the narrow backstreet. The din of a much larger street was up ahead. Running along the roofs he couldn't see the details, but on the whole it looked and sounded very much like any city. And no nakking crocodiles. Small blessings.

Eventually Dave found his way blocked by the sheer face of a wall stretching up far higher than he could easily scale. Eight stories, perhaps ten. From the sound, he could tell that the larger street was close, but he wasn't going to be able to see it by strolling the low roofs. He stopped to catch his breath, only now realizing that he had been straining himself.

Down on the backstreet, two trolls were walking past, arguing loudly. Dave flopped down to lie stomach down on the roof, propped his head on his hands, and watched them. It seemed to be a gay lover's quarrel. Or something. One guy was yelling about how he hated the other, who seemed blasé about the whole thing and said something about not caring. Dave didn't really bother to try to make sense of it, and they soon disappeared from sight, voices drowning in the city din.

Now what? Go down on the street or try to climb the higher buildings? Ascend or descend? It would help if he had any sort of idea where he was going. He could stay where he was – at least it was drier and less smelly than that alley – but he didn't like it. Striders weren't made to be idle. He drummed his fingers absentmindedly on the rooftop while trying not to think too much. He checked Pesterchum again. Still no one online. They'd better be alright. If John was out there getting himself killed by being too trusting again, he would... well, there would be acrobatics enough to fill a circus, that's for sure.

There was another troll approaching from the far end of the street below him. His eyes were drawn to her immediately, but it took approximately 1.16 seconds before he realized it wasn't out of idle curiosity. He recognized her, and damn it, his heart skipped at least two beats when he did. He didn't even hesitate to pull down his shades and look again, making sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him in the half-darkness, but no. She was taller, more woman-like, but if Dave had ever been able to recognize a face in his life, he recognized this one. The pointed red shades and the teal libra symbol across her chest were just the cheese on the nachos. _Terezi_. But she was an adult, and suddenly Dave felt like a sucker for not getting it at once. Some Knight of Time he was.

He was _somewhen_ on Alternia, but the trolls he knew must have made it back years earlier. For some reason they weren't using their old troll tags anymore. They were grown up, but they were here. Dave Strider wouldn't grin like a loon, unlike certain Egberts he could mention, but he did find his mouth arching into a smile.

He suppressed the impulse to wave and call her name. That would be nothing short of dorky. Instead he jumped to his feet and proceeded to half climb, half jump down to street level in the narrow space between two buildings. She had already walked past his position, but although he took care to be silent, she must have heard him touch the ground. She spun around. Crazy good hearing, but he'd expect no less.

Dave leaned against the corner of the house, more casual than a pair of jeans at prom night. "Sup, Terezi," he said.

She looked surprised, perhaps even shocked. No wonder, if she hadn't seen him in years. Or smelled or whatever. He would have to make a point of drawing a shitty rendition of this reaction whenever he had the opportunity. "It's been a while," he added.

Terezi didn't say anything, but her face tensed and she took exactly one measured step towards him. Dave barely had the chance to wonder what she was up to before he found himself looking down the barrel of a handgun.

Suddenly this didn't seem like such a rad idea after all.


	3. Rose

Rose emerged from darkness. She slowly became aware of the sound of waves, the smell of salty air and the chill of a soft breeze pulling at her skirt, but it was the light that brought her back. She was sitting up, back propped up against something hard, legs sprawled in front of her, and somewhere before her was light that painted the inside of her eyelids with the dark red of life. They had made it out. Good.

She opened her eyes slowly and found herself staring at the most magnificent ocean sky she had ever seen. The sun was below the horizon – on the way to rise or just having set she couldn't tell. But everything in her line of vision – sky, sea, twirling patterns of clouds – was dyed in brilliant iridescent colors from the entirety of the spectrum, from patches of red to streaks of green, from bright yellow to deep blue. Rose found herself unwilling to look away, staring at the spectacle as every color slowly but surely changed into a darker shade. It was a sunset, and it was beautiful. If this was the universe's way of welcoming her back, it was overdoing itself.

Of course, it was overdoing itself in the most sarcastically mocking manner possible. Sometimes the universe reminded Rose of her mother. She snorted as the thought gave her the motivation to look away and get serious. As amazing as the lightshow was, it was literally unearthly. Ergo, she was not on Earth. Ergo, something had gone wrong. Exactly what that meant she wasn't sure, but things going wrong were very seldom good news.

Rose considered her more immediate surroundings and found that she was on the far end of a rather large pier, her back leaned against a broken crate. She rose to her feet, stretched, and brushed some dust off her black dress. Gentle ocean waves rolled in all around her towards what looked like a small harbor at the other end of the pier. A couple of warehouses lined the shore, and beyond that, other buildings. Following the line of the shore with her eyes, she saw it turn into wild cliffs, then unusually colored forest. The shore reached out into the sea on both sides, forming a wide bay and probably making this a natural place for a harbor.

A single ship was docked to the pier, a curious contraption that at first glance bore a striking resemblance to the very image of a full-sized early modern man-of-war, complete with multiple masts, rigging, sails and gun ports. However, as Rose took a closer look, she noticed several anachronistic details, foremost of which the fact that the while the ship was shaped in a way to indicate a hull made of planks, the material was obviously synthetic, not wood. If she were to hazard a guess, the owner of this ship either had some expensive hobbies or some truly flamboyant taste. Possibly both.

She found no trace of her friends. Except for herself, the pier was empty, as was the deck of the ship, and as was the visible area in the distance where the pier touched land. This was disconcerting. She could distinctly remember all four of them hanging on to each other, even as they lost track of the trolls in the chaos of the broken game. She had to assume the other three had ended up somewhere relatively close. At least as close as on the same planet, which, in any practical sense, wasn't all that close at all. Though if the game hadn't ejected them on Earth, it was more necessary than ever that they got back in touch with each other.

Rose reached for the hubtopband in her sylladex, but found no trace of that, either. Not just no trace of the hubtopband, but no trace of the sylladex itself. That wasn't just disconcerting, it was _odd_. Had her equipment somehow disappeared as she was expelled from the game? Had the same thing happened to the others? If she was going to be completely honest with herself, the implications were more than a little bit frightening.

Perhaps it was not entirely inexplicable – crashing the game that created them might possibly have resulted in the destruction and recreation of their physical forms, minus very specific equipment such as sylladexes. That would make it more understandable, but not any less dire.

Accepting the lack of a means to communicate, she fell back on reason. She wasn't on Earth. It would be reasonable to assume that the game wouldn't eject her to a random planet unconnected to their session. Sburb as well as paradox space in general seemed to be averse to randomness. In other words, this was most likely Alternia. It also stood to reason that whatever had happened to her had happened equally to her human friends, for the same reason. It was even fairly likely that if the human team was on Alternia, the twelve trolls would be on Earth, but that was going into the realm of pure speculation. What was certain was that she was here, and whether that was a bug or a feature remained to see.

The harbor had been strangely quiet up to this point, but as the sky grew darker and a large moon emerged from behind the town to spread an ominous green illumination over the sea, she started to notice movement and sound from the other end of the pier. It was as if she was watching the town wake up as the sun set – and indeed, Kanaya had mentioned that most trolls were nocturnal. That made sense. However, it also meant that it wasn't completely unlikely that someone would come out on the pier, and she should be thinking of a plan of action.

The sound of footsteps on the deck of the ship behind her startled her before she got that far. She instinctively ducked back behind the crate, and as she wasn't called out, she had to assume that she hadn't been spotted. Apparently the ship wasn't quite as empty as she had thought. The footsteps grew in number, and mixed up with bits of conversation. Peering over the edge of the broken crate, Rose saw that about five or six people – trolls, as the gray skin and bright orange horns confirmed – had appeared from below deck and were now busily occupied with the rigging, perhaps preparing to set sail. She was unsurprised to hear the soft whirr of machinery from somewhere within the ship. They were also unfolding an automatic gangway, so perhaps they were rather preparing to do something ashore after spending the day aboard the ship.

Or, no, they were bringing people aboard. Turning towards the shore, Rose noticed a larger group of trolls – perhaps twenty of them – heading out on the pier, straight for her and the ship, presumably to board the latter. She found herself surrounded, and a lot sooner than she'd expected. Rose huddled back down behind the crate – which would cover her if she was lucky, but if someone came too close or happened to look down from the wrong place on deck, she would hardly be invisible – and examined her options.

Getting on good terms with the locals would be important, but from what she had been told about troll society, few trolls would welcome an alien straggler on their homeworld. A bunch of hardened sailors would not be her first choice to make contact. If worst came to worst... Well, she was unarmed. Her wands were gone with her sylladex, and if she was to be completely honest, she didn't lament their loss. The horrorterrors had never left her completely – once she'd recognized it for what it was she could feel the connection between them, a dark spot still hidden somewhere in the back of her mind. The wands would be a temptation of power that might not be worth it, all said and done. However, she still felt vulnerable without an allocated strife syllabus. If she hadn't wasted time watching the sunset she might have been able to fashion some makeshift splinter needles from the broken edges of the crate, but that was no longer an option.

That left escaping, and that would only be possible in one direction. The pier lacked railings, and her hiding place was a mere few steps away from the edge. She couldn't be sure the sea of an alien planet could be trusted for swimming, but in a worst case scenario, there it was. For the moment she stayed where she was, hoping not to be seen.

The approaching trolls were chattering amongst themselves, but one voice – a woman's – rose above the others as they came closer. "Are we ready to go?" she yelled.

"Yes, Marquise!" The reply came from some other woman on the ship's deck.

"How was the haggling?" some man on the deck asked.

"Not bad, all things considered," the Marquise replied. "My reputation proceeds me even here." Rose could practically hear the smugness dripping in her voice. Someone else in the group of newcomers snickered.

"And did you...?"

"Cut the chit-chat until we're off port!" the Marquise ordered. "All of you, get to your stations!"

There was a rush of footsteps up the gangway, and for a moment Rose thought they had all climbed aboard – but then she caught someone's shadow beside the edge of the crate, black against the green moonlight. A tall woman with mismatched horns stepped up to the edge, just a few feet away from her. Rose hardly dared breathe.

"I know you're there," the Marquise said, loudly but with some exasperation. Rose tensed, but the troll wasn't looking in her direction – her eyes were firmly on the sea. "You would never miss the opportunity to see me off." She spread her hands. "Show yourself and get it over with!"

Some distance away, something stirred in the water. At first Rose wasn't sure what she saw, but then she realized that it was a face. A finned troll's face, tall wavy horns jutting out of the ocean like corals. A seadweller? Kanaya had mentioned that the highest caste of trolls lived underwater. That would complicate any attempt to escape by swimming.

"Interestin'." The voice carried over the water, but the next moment he dived below the surface again, and the edge of the pier hid him from Rose's view. Rose had to wonder if he had noticed her. It was impossible to tell.

"What's interesting, fincheek?" the Marquise said. "The fact that I just got off with bootlegging the Pawn of Falona? I'm sure you're dying to hear how much I got for it." Her tone was mocking.

"No," the man's voice said, closer this time. "I just think it's interestin' howw fuckin' clueless you are." There was something distinctly familiar about his accent.

The Marquise snorted. "That's rich, coming from you. You know just as well as I do which one of us was favored by the great Mother Grub. Blood means nothing against luck. And you're jealous."

"You're a disgrace," the seadweller replied. "I wwas goin' to tell you again howw much I loath you, but tonight I think I'll settle for notin' that you're blind as a molebat. I think it's fascinatin'." He laughed, a high-pitched, wavy sound.

"Reeeeeeeeally." The Marquise elongated the vowel ridiculously. That sounded rather familiar, too. "I suppose you're going to gloat to me about it. What is it, a troop of threshcutioners rallying behind me at this very moment? Imperial drones burning my childhood hive? What?" She sounded amused rather than worried.

"Howw much wwould it be wworth to you if I told you?"

"An imperial half-shilling and a bite on the cheek. Nevermind, I'll find out on my own. Or not, as you are obviously lying." She started to turn away towards the ship.

There was a loud splash from below, and the seadweller appeared on the edge of the pier beside the Marquise. Rose couldn't help but be impressed by the jump – the surface of the water was some nine or ten feet below the pier.

"No you wwon't. You'll wwonder about it forevver, and it wwill drivve you insane." The seadweller grabbed one of the Marquise's arms and spun her around. "I'll take you up on that offer, though."

"You will, will you? That's almost sexy." She didn't struggle against his grip, but instead cupped his face in her free hand and leaned forward, her lips brushing against his. "I'll tell you what, forget the half-shilling and I'll up it to a kiss."

"Deal."

Rose watched with slightly disgusted fascination. It looked more like they were trying to eat each other's faces than anything even remotely resembling romantic. There was wet blood on both of their chins, blue and violet intermingled, when they pulled apart.

The seadweller let go of the Marquise and pointed. "There's an alien wwatchin' us," he said matter-of-factly.

 _Damn_. That was the most eloquent way Rose could summarize her thoughts on the matter. _Hell_ might also work, or even _fuck_. She definitely should have seen that one coming. There was no avoiding it now – she could hardly outswim the troll equivalent of a mermaid – and she might as well spare herself some dignity and put on the diplomacy.

"Hello," she said, rising to her feet. Both trolls were staring at her, the seadweller with a smug grin on his face, the Marquise with stunned fury. Beyond on the ship's deck someone shouted for others to come and watch. "I beg your pardon for disturbing you on this very fine night." Rose curtsied nicely, although that was probably lost on troll sensitivities.

It wasn't until she stood up and faced them that Rose finally got a close look at the two trolls heads on. She blinked.

Oh. _Oh_. No wonder their accents seemed familiar.

The wriggly lines of Aquarius in dark magenta. The arrowheaded M of Scorpio in clear cerulean. That unmistakable multi-pupiled mutant eye, and even the shape of their horns. They were older, faces hard and angular, but once she made the connection, she did recognize them. She hadn't had many conversations with either Eridan or Vriska, and she wasn't fond of either of them – the former was an idiot and the latter more than a little unhinged, despite having made friends with John. Nevertheless, Rose couldn't help but feel relief. Whatever had made the game eject her on Alternia must have also thrown the her timeline off synchronization with the trolls', but the fact remained that she was not alone among hostile strangers.

"What!?" Vriska exclaimed, seemingly taken off balance. "Did you bring her here?"

"No," Eridan replied. "I saw her spyin' on you, and it was hilarious howw you didn't notice. You owwe me one."

"I've paid you enough!" Vriska snarled, but Eridan was already jumping off the pier, taking off.

"Havve fun," he said flippantly, before disappearing under the surface.

Vriska turned back to Rose with a grim twist of her mouth. "You made a fool out of me in front of my kismesis, alien," she said quietly, slowly closing the distance between them. "That was a mistake."

"Yes, I most definitely did that on purpose." Rose stood her ground as Vriska towered over her. She wondered how long it had been for her since the game. It must have been significant length of time. "Believe me or not, I'm actually glad to see you," she added.

"Really now," Vriska said. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand and smiled, showing a mouthful of razorsharp teeth. "Is that how it works? You embarrass me and sass about it and then you're happy to see me?" She snorted loudly. "You've got guts, and I appreciate that, but I can't believe how stupid you are." She fingered something in the pocket of her coat.

"Seeing as I was dumped in this time and place with no choice in—" Rose fell silent. No, she was _silenced_. She wasn't meaning to cut her sentence off, but somehow no more words were forthcoming. There was an ominous shine in Vriska's eyes, and Rose instinctively tried to take a step back, but her legs wouldn't move, either. And then she could feel it. _There was something in her mind._ There was something in her mind that wasn't her, and she'd had enough of that and she had to _get it out get it out get it out_ but getting it out would mean letting something else in. The dark spot in the back of her mind was throbbing. She could use it, she knew she could use it to throw the other presence away, but the horrorterrors would use the opening to climb into her soul again, and she couldn't. She couldn't.

Rose was shivering violently, which was about as much control she could exercise over her own body at this moment. On some level she recognized that she was panicking, and it was that recognition more than anything else that got her back together. Deep breaths. Vriska wasn't an enemy – at least she shouldn't be. She was annoyed, but she was going to let her go. Just wait.

Belatedly, Rose realized that the rush of blood in her ears had drowned out what the Marquise had been saying. She did, however, catch the reply from one of the crewmembers up on the deck.

"I would have to get a closer look to be sure," he said, "But I don't think I recognize her species at all."

"Interesting indeed," Vriska mused, echoing Eridan's word choice. "Quite a treasure, in fact. Just what in the universe _are_ you, and why would you be spying on me like this, without even an attempt at disguise?" She bent down and put a finger on Rose's lips. "No, don't answer. There'll be plenty of time to talk later."

Rose couldn't have even if she had tried, and not just because she was still unable to move. Panic was rising again like bile in her throat. Vriska didn't recognize her. _She didn't remember._


	4. Jade

Jade was falling. Gravity was pulling her through space, ripping her awake with her stomach turning and wind in her eyes. She was heading for the surface below really really fast, and as she felt very fervently at that moment, being about to die was _not_ the best way to discover that you were alive.

She was barely awake enough to register it, but a glimpse of glitter below indicated that the surface she was heading for was water, and then her instincts took over and she dove, arms and head first, splash and bubbles filling her ears and salt water her mouth as she sank into the darkness.

Seconds later she breached the surface again, spitting and threading water, her blue eclectica dress tangling her legs below. She sputtered and gasped for air, heart beating frantically – but as the shock of the sudden awakening started to pass, she realized that, yes, she was alive. The thought made her laugh out loud. She was alive! She was out in the real world, where things like distance and location and falling into water had meaning. They had made it! She wanted to hug someone, to celebrate, but to her great disappointment no one was there. There had been no other splashes. Wherever the others were, they weren't here.

Which was probably good for them, in fact. Jade's heart sank as she found that for once in her life, she had absolutely no idea where she was or what she was supposed to do. Well, in the ocean, obviously. Also, swim, obviously, since there didn't seem to be much else to do. Perhaps the universe had thrown her out in the general direction of her island and missed. The water was pleasantly warm, although it seemed to taste more tangy on her lips than she remembered. Yuck. But she had had a rough awakening, so sourness was probably just to be expected.

Jade turned around in the water. It made her nervous that all directions seemed to look the same; dark horizon against a darker sky. It was hard to see properly, though – she must have dropped her glasses when she crashed into the water, and they were probably confusing some fish with specta-goggling action far below by now. Fortunately, she had a spare pair. A little redundancy went a long way.

She tried to retrieve her spare glasses from her sylladex – only to find that her captchalogue cards were missing. Now that was annoying. The glasses she could understand, but how did she manage to drop an entire sylladex? She sighed and tried to peer at the horizon again.

The fact that it was night didn't help for visibility, though the moonlight was pretty bright. And colored. Actually... It finally struck Jade that the moonlight was odd. It was coming from two directions, for one thing. Two moons in the sky – one bright green, the other brilliant purple.

"Oh nooo," she whined quietly to whoever was listening, which was no one. This wasn't as it should be at all.

She frowned and looked up at the sky. Two alien moons. Without glasses she couldn't see more than the brightest stars – and them only as a few fuzzy blobs – but she bet she wouldn't recognize the constellations. It wasn't Earth, or even Prospit or LOFAF or any other planet she was familiar with. Although it was probably good that it wasn't Prospit or anything. That would have meant that she was back in the Incipisphere, and that would have meant complete failure. So being on an alien planet out in reality was good, sort of. The game was broken, and they were free of it – right? Except she had really counted on this crazy plan taking them home. How else were they going to get back?

However, none of that changed anything about her present situation. She was still lost in the middle of an ocean, and she couldn't see land anywhere. It didn't matter what planet she was on – she was going to die if she didn't find land. It wasn't like she wasn't a good swimmer, but there was going to be limits to how far she could go without rest. And with no landmarks, how was she supposed to know that she wasn't swimming in the wrong direction – or worse, in circles? Not to mention that if she fell asleep here... Ugh. She bit her lip.

So what? She'd done the impossible before. Granted, she tended to have precognitive assurance that she would survive – at least she had had that until very recently. The decisions she had made without anything of the sort was what had led her _here_ , so that wasn't all that reassuring either. Too much predestination was a pain, but just knowing that a future you existed was a reassurance she had almost come to take for granted. The fact that there was absolutely nothing guaranteeing that she'd make it out of this predicament alive was terrifying. The future was a complete blank. Suddenly she had a deeper respect for everyone who made it through life without ever dreaming of the future – it must be horrible.

She was alone and didn't know jack shit. Jack Shit was a complete stranger, as Dave might have said. The joke almost made her feel better.

Jade didn't want to die. Not like this, alone in the sea where no one would ever know. She wished she could at least contact her friends. Maybe they wouldn't be able to help her, but at least she would know that _they_ were alright. But although she was still wearing her lunchtopshoes, she didn't think she'd be able to operate the virtual keyboard while threading water. She was on her own, but she wasn't going to give up.

She was the Witch of Space. Where to go and how to get there was supposed to be her _thing_. That and the frogs, but she didn't see any frogs right now, no matter how welcome they would have been. She just had to trust her instincts, didn't she? She picked a direction at random and started swimming, steady breaststrokes at a comfortable pace.

She swam, and time passed. She had no idea how much. The moons moved across the sky, but they were alien moons and she didn't know how fast they moved or even how long it would be until dawn. Her clothes were dragging her down, skirt billowing back and forth around her like the bell of a jellyfish, and her shoes started to feel like rocks on her feet. She considered kicking the shoes off – wasn't that a survival advise that she had read somewhere? Get rid of shoes when you have to swim for your life? But they held her computers, and if she survived she would need them to find her friends again. So she kept them and moved on, arms and legs aching and lips parched with salt water.

It was hard to tell if she was actually getting somewhere. It felt like she was moving, but for all she could see, she was immobile on a vast surface, unchanging except for the rippling waves. In the big picture, she guessed she was. As slow as she was moving, she might as well be standing still compared to the wide ocean. She tried not to think about it.

She thought about the ocean below, and what kind of fish might live there, and if perhaps this was a planet of colorful squiddles. That would be fun. She thought more about the planet she was on and concluded that it was probably the trolls' homeworld, and hoped the trolls were here too. She thought a lot about her friends. Whether the trolls were safe and sound in their hives. If her human friends were on the same planet as her, and if so, if they had materialized somewhere that was not in the middle of an ocean and not a few hundred feet in the air. She hoped so. She wasn't even sure Dave could swim, come to think of it. Then she thought about the celebration party they would have when they got back together, about all the games they would play, and the food they would eat, and the music and movies and hugs. Because they would, of course they would.

Jade kept swimming because the alternative was to sink.

It came literally as a shock when the monotony was finally broken. Something unknown touched her leg from below, and before she knew it she was pulled under. Visions of aquatic horrorterrors mixed with images of playful squiddles as she swallowed too much water in surprise and struggled frantically to get away before she blacked out completely.

Whatever it was didn't hold her for long, and the next moment she broke the surface again, coughing violently, salt water burning in her throat and nose. She was too busy trying to keep her head above the water while clearing her lungs and her head to notice what had happened until the person who had appeared in the water beside her yanked her arm and almost pulled her face below the surface again. She eeped, coughed again, and finally managed to look up.

"Wwhat in the evverlovvin' name of the Vvast Glub is goin' on here?"

"What?" Jade managed weakly, blinking to clear her eyes. A seatroll, all gray skin and gills and black hair spreading in the water and it didn't even matter who it was. There was someone there, and despite the rude dunking that felt like the best news in the history of _ever_. "Hi! I—well—"

"Startin' wwith wwhat a landdwwelling alien is doin' half-drowwned in the middle of the Alternian sea. This ain't no coincidence."

Wait a second. She knew that accent. And come to think of it – those jagged horns, and those purple wriggly lines on his shirt, and that rifle slung casually across his back... "Eridan?" That was the last person she would have chosen to see. She would gladly have lived the rest of her life without ever seeing Eridan again, but right now she wasn't in a position to turn down help from _anyone_.

"Wwhat?" He pulled her arm again. The way he was holding one arm down meant she had to paddle twice as hard with the other one to stay afloat. It was beyond rude, and she was already so tired. "I asked you a question!"

"Let go of me!" Jade protested. "Why are you always so annoying? I was dumped in the middle of the sea when we broke the game and I'm just trying to find land and are you going to help me or not??"

"Help you?" Eridan snorted. He didn't quite look like the Eridan Jade remembered, actually. He was a lot older, fully grown up, and he didn't have that silly purple strike in his hair. There had to be time shenanigans involved, and Jade was too exhausted to try to make sense of it. "Wwhy wwould I wwant to help you?"

"Look, I'm sorry I said you were horrible and insulted your rifle and everything and I'm sure there must have been a lot of misunderstandings that made you troll me the way you did, but right now I'm sort of half-drowning like you said and _please_ could you help me get out of here?" She barely stopped for breath. Sure he was a douchebag, but she really didn't want him to just up and leave her here.

"Yeah, I suspected you'd be insane," Eridan said. "Only makes sense. But wwhat I'd like to knoww is wwho drops moron delusional alien kids on top of us and wwhy." He let go of Jade's arm and unclasped the rifle from his back, aiming it point blank at her chest. "Kill you noww or take you to the court?"

"Eridan, you can't!" Why did he seem so serious? It was like he didn't have any idea who she was. But that didn't make any sense. "Don't you recognize me? I'm Jade!"

"And I'm amethyst, but I don't see howw that's in any wway related to the topic. The topic being howw and wwhen you're goin' to be culled."

"You're not going to cull me!" Jade felt more angry than scared. There was no doubt this was Eridan. He looked almost the same, and he talked the same, and even that rifle – he had told her it was one of a kind. But he wasn't seeing her. "Listen to me!"

He didn't listen, either. "Court it is, then," he determined. "Bet there're people there wwho're goin' to lovve this." Then he disappeared below the surface. Jade had just enough time to wonder if he was gone, but seconds later he reappeared riding a huge pearly white seahorse. It didn't just swim, but flew out of the water, stopping to hover above her.

Jade was relieved when Eridan reached down, pulled her out of the water and placed her in front of him on the mount. Just getting onto something relatively solid felt amazing. Her wet clothes made her shiver in the air, and neither Eridan nor the seahorse offered much warmth, but just having somewhere to sit and not having to constantly keep moving was heavenly. She could easily have fallen asleep then and there. The narcolepsy didn't kick in, though, and sleeping voluntarily would still be a bad idea. She had to get Eridan to snap out of it before he took her to be executed or something.

Thinking about it, she wasn't sure which she disliked most; flirtatious psychopath young Eridan or murderous amnesiac adult Eridan – but at least she didn't have to deal with both at once. That was something.

"Look," she said sternly. "Don't you remember the game? Sburb or Sgrub or whatever you called it?"

"Shaddup, alien."

"I'm a _human_ and my name is _Jade_. How can you not even remember that? You don't remember giving me the Ahab's Crosshairs either?"

"Wwhy wwould I evver do such a stupid thing? You should try to make more sense and maybe you'll livve longer. I havve the gun and you don't. Wwhatevver you're tryin' to do, it ain't wworking."

"Yes, you said it was a one of a kind weapon. And technically you only gave me a copy."

"It is. It was givven to me personally by her Imperious Condescension. And I dunno what you're talkin' about so shaddap before I make you."

"No, you said you got it from..." Jade shut up, but not because he told her to. It was like a puzzle falling into place, like getting the configuration just right on a new machine to finally make it start moving. She facepalmed. This was exactly why she hated time stuff.

"Your name isn't even Eridan, is it?"

"No, it's not. Wwhat gavve you that idea?"

Jade sighed. "I think I knew your Descendant."

"Wwhat??" For some reason, that got his attention.


	5. Dave

Dave discovered to his own surprise that he wasn't dead. He clearly remembered the gun being fired, followed by a sharp pain in his chest, but as he cautiously took a few deep breaths, he couldn't feel anything worse than a vague soreness. He was apparently alive, and no bleeding holes in his torso. Perhaps she hadn't used bullets. He'd count that as a good thing, except it's hard to count anything as a good thing when you meet a future version of your – well, _Terezi_ – and she promptly shoots you without even saying hello.

Also, he was tied to a chair. That would put a damper on most situations.

He was sitting in the middle of a small, dimly lit room, and Terezi was standing in the other end of it. Her back was turned, and he had no idea what she was doing.

"Kinky," he said dryly, getting her attention. She was tall, probably quite a bit taller than him even if they were both standing up, and right now she was towering over him in the chair. If he had had any doubts about her identity, though, seeing her close up like this dispelled them. She was older, sure. Perhaps six or seven years older than he remembered her; a young adult now. But the face was as Terezi as it goes, lacking only the mad cackling grin. She looked grim.

"Seriously, Terezi, what the _hell_?"

She slapped him. He wasn't prepared for it, although he should have been, this being that kind of setup and all. It made his teeth clatter and his cheek sting. Before he could say anything, she backhanded him across the other cheek, too. His head started buzzing uncomfortably.

"I seem to be repeating myself here," he managed, still cool as a cucumber, "But – Terezi, _what the hell?_ " He would sincerely like to know.

"You keep using that name. Why?" Terezi's voice was toneless.

"I thought it was the troll word for asshole," Dave said without missing a beat. That earned him another slap, making the ring in his ears worse. "You've told me your name," he added. "Come on."

"You have made a mistake, alien," Terezi said calmly. "I don't like your insinuations that I have had dealings with you before."

"Right. Insinuations." This shit wasn't like her. At all. Even Egbert would consider this far out of line for a prank. "You're right, and I'm also insinuating that you're out of your fucking mind. Got tired of trolling alien boys to death and started tying them up and beating them bloody instead? I see I have completely underestimated you here."

"Shut up." She slapped him again, and he was starting to get severely uncool with that. Though not as uncool as he was with her bullshit. "I'm the one asking the questions."

"Yeah, I know. You're the _legislacerator_ , and I'm the poor criminal chump you dragged in from the street to interrogate about illegal rooftop loitering." That sentence would have been so much more ironic if that didn't seem to be exactly what had happened. "Poor sap, victim of police violence, body never found."

He got another slap. This was going to be one fucking slap festa, wasn't it? And he was going to keep sitting here and take it like some abused barefoot housewife. Delightful.

"Who are you?" Terezi asked, speaking slowly and calmly, and for some reason that was worse than being slapped around.

"Fuck it, Terezi." Dave closed his eyes for a second, not like she could see it anyway. "You're serious. You don't remember me at all, do you?"

"You're making the dangerous assumption that any faulty or fictitious memory here is mine. The truth of the matter is that you have made a fatal error by mistaking me for your contact. I don't think you completely understand your situation here, alien." As if to punctuate that statement, she bent down to Dave's level and pulled off his shades. Her face was squarely in front of his, her reflective red shades close to his uncovered red irises. Dave flinched, even though he hadn't when she hit him. He made a conscious effort not to try to pull away, to keep his eyes open and his face expressionless, but his stomach was churning and _why the hell did she have to do that?_ Being tied down and helpless was one thing, but only when the shades came off did it strike him exactly how exposed he was.

"Now, I asked you a question," she breathed, close enough that he could feel it on his face. And there it was, the Terezi Grin (tm). All those teeth, like a shark. This time Dave didn't find it even remotely amusing.

"Fine," he said. "I'm Dave motherfucking Strider." He hoped it sounded more casual than he felt. "I'm the god of shitty art and sort of the knight of cogwheels and causal shenanigans, and if that doesn't ring any bells, that's your loss, babe." It was her loss and his loss and probably the entire fucking universe's loss. She _was_ Terezi. Unless Terezi had a long lost twin sister, that was Terezi Pyrope, and if she said she had never met him, she probably hadn't. Made as much sense as anything. They broke the game. The game never happened. Something went wrong and they didn't save their own timeline after all. Alternative timeline. New Alpha. She wasn't the anomaly, then, _he_ was.

 _What if he was the only one who hadn't been rebooted?_

Terezi rose and took a step back, tapping his shades in her hands with a finger. "Dave Strider," she said, nodding. "Very good, that's a start. But you're still mocking me. I still don't think you understand."

"If you mean the fact that I'm _doomed_ , yeah, I'm starting to get that." At that moment, Dave found that he didn't even care. "Go ahead, call me Titanic and throw me at an iceberg."

"Your alien jokes are lost on me, _Dave_ ," she said, and she sounded so much like the Terezi he used to know that all he wished was for her to shut up. "But you're right. Of course you're doomed." She started walking around him, stopping right behind the chair where he couldn't see her. "You are a member of an alien race caught illegally trespassing on Alternian soil. I checked the records. Your species isn't even on file. Your presence on the homeworld is an obvious and irredeemable crime."

"Yeah, I'm a hardened criminal. My head is worth a queen's ransom on a billion planets. Policemen run and children wet themselves at the sound of my name."

"You're not even taking yourself seriously," she said. "Why should I?"

"I dunno. I bet you don't even care who I am as long as you get to execute a criminal. Am I right?"

"I could kill you right now," she said, mouth close to his ear, "And no one would blame me."

"So why don't you?"

"Because." She walked the rest of the way around the chair and bent down in front of him again, reaching out and cupping his face in her hand. Dave was almost sure that he managed to suppress an instinctive shudder at that. How derpy did you have to be to be uncomfortable about a pretty girl touching you anyway?

"Alternia's defenses aren't easily penetrated," she continued. "You shouldn't have been able to land on this planet without setting off a swarm of homeworld protectalizers. Moreover, from the way you are acting as if you know me, it is apparent that you have Alternian accomplices. And you would hardly have gotten through all that trouble without a purpose." She paused and pointedly scratched his cheek below the eye with a clawed finger, drawing blood. "You're going to tell us about these things."

Dave didn't make a sound, but his jaw tensed, and he felt his fists clenching behind his back. He struggled to keep up his poker face, but he wasn't sure how well he managed without his shades, especially not when she was poking around so close to his eyes. He glared at her nevertheless. "Sure thing. I'll sit here and tell you all about green suns and nakking crocodiles and shitty art and scratched records and you're going to believe me like Egbert on a cake-induced sugar high. That sounds like an excellent idea."

Her mouth narrowed and she dug her nail deeper into the wound on his cheek. And no, that did _not_ make him gasp. "It would be an excellent idea," she said, "If you chose to cooperate." As he didn't immediately reply, she scratched the wound again, harder, before she pulled her bloodsmeared finger away, and Dave could breathe again.

Terezi held her hand in front of her face for a moment, as if looking at it, or perhaps sniffing it. "Candy red," she said. "How very alien of you." She licked it clean. "Delicious, though."

"So you keep telling me. Or would have, if you had ever met me before. Tell me, does all blind troll chicks get high on red, or is it just you?" The comeback was toothless, but her reaction was unexpected.

"What makes you think I'm blind?"

"You're not?"

"Not quite, no." She grinned, and Dave wished again that she would stop looking so much like Terezi if she clearly wasn't going to be her. She reached out to him again, patting his unhurt cheek gently this time. "Look, kid. I actually do like your style. You mock, but you don't stink of ingrained deceit, and that's refreshing. There's no need for you to make things harder than they have to be."

"Cool. Good cop Terezi is being all friendly and kind, so I guess that means I'll spill all of my candy red beans at her mercy."

"The fact that you're a cool kid is an irrefutable fact that I'm stating for the record. It doesn't mean friendliness is what's taking place here."

"Of course it is. This is a fucking dance party." Dave pretty much expected her to hit him again at that, but all she did was to remove her hand from his face and kept facing him with those brilliantly red shades. Perhaps she really was staring at him, seeing straight into his own naked eyes, and at that thought Dave had to fight an urge to close them again.

"Do you like parties, Dave?"

Dave might have sucked in air a little too quickly for a casual breath there. "No," he said. "No I don't, and neither do you, and that's not a topic of conversation that is happening."

Terezi's eyebrow's shot a little higher. "I see. Does that also have to do with your delusion that I'm this contact of yours?"

Dave didn't say anything. It was all he could manage to force himself to keep looking at her. Damn him if he would cower.

"Let me tell you something. You may be under the misconception that you're still alive because _I_ want something out of you, but that's false. The truth is that there are – not laws, but procedures for this kind of thing."

"You want to put me on trial before His Honorable Tyranny? I still can't believe that's an actual title, by the way." His mouth was dry, and the quip sounded hollow in his own ears.

"No. Trials are for troll criminals, and you're not eligible. But my superiors are interested in you alive for two reasons. The first is for homeworld security reasons. How and why did you arrive here? What route did you use to avoid security? How many of you are there? Who helped you?" She paused. "And the thing is, I'm not a tormenterrogator. If the professionals get their hands on you, you _will_ talk, sooner or later. They tend not to fail."

Dave didn't want to hear this. "You want the truth?" he blurted, voice harsh, and he couldn't be absolutely sure it wasn't shivering. "The truth is that I got here by fucking accident. No one on this planet helped me, I've got no allies, and I'm the only one of my kind here." The last part might or might not be true, but by now he hoped it was. Hell, he'd pretty much wouldn't mind taking the bullet like this if he could be sure it wouldn't happen to any other the others. "I'm screwed like a whore on Saturday sale."

"That's not a very likely story."

"Of course it's not. The truth is never the most likely story. Don't you watch mysteries at all?"

This time she did slap him again, another sting on his bleeding cheek. A couple of red drops splattered on her face, and her hand came away bloody. "The truth is what remains when the lies have been exposed."

"Yeah, you're the Legislacerator of Great Justice. The truth follows you around like a puppy and happily does exactly what you tell it to."

"It will." Terezi grinned that shark-toothed grin of hers. "Once I do become a legislacerator, I assure you the truth will follow me around like an alien 'puppy'."

"So you're not a legislacerator."

"Not _yet_. But this isn't about me. The point is that it would serve your own interest to tell me everything here and now."

"If there was any fucking chance you'd believe me. What's the other reason your head honchos want me alive?"

"You're an alien of an unknown species. What do you think?"

Dave hadn't even considered that. But he could picture what would happen to a helpless alien on _Earth_ , and for some unfathomable reason he didn't think Alternia would be any better. "Shit."

"So you see, tormenterrigators might not even be called in. If you cooperate, I'm sure the xenologists can be persuaded to put you under before they cut you up."

The way she said that would have been hilariously deadpan if there had been the slightest chance that she was being ironic about it. But she wasn't, and Dave could have sworn his blood temperature just dropped several degrees. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, but his head fell forward as if on its own accord. "Okay," he said. "I get it. Fate just kicked my ass and that's really all there is to say on the matter."

"There are lots of things to say on the matter, Dave. You should start talking."

Dave drew a deep breath that was only the slightest bit shaky. "It wouldn't matter if I do. It's not like you'd believe it."

"Try me."

"I told you. I'm not here on purpose. It was a goddamn accident. A mistake. Not some sort of alien invasion plan."

"And I told you that's an unlikely story. Especially since you have clearly indicated that you know at least one troll."

"Terezi? That's your name. See, I'm psychic."

"It's not my name, although I understand I remind you of her."

Not even the same name? Dave wondered dully how far back this timeline split from the one he knew. "Then what should I call you?"

"I doubt you'll be calling me anything for very long. But I go by Redglare."

Dave raised his face again, finding his own reflection in her bright red shades. "Oh no, I'll never be able to remember that."

She ignored him. "Tell me about Terezi."


	6. Rose

Rose decided it was like a sort of meditation. Meditation on the edge of a razorblade, insanity reaching for her from both sides, but meditation nonetheless. Breathe in, breathe out. Her lungs still belonged to her.

She couldn't retreat too far into her mind. The Lords of the Furthest Ring were there, whispering to her. To stop rejecting them. To let them help, to join with them the way they asserted she was meant to. They never used to be this insistent, but they surely sensed her distress now. She couldn't fight without them. Pushing her will against the other presence in her mind would be identical to pushing herself at the horrorterrors – and she couldn't deny that it was tempting. It would be so easy to give in, to open herself to the darkness and all the power it promised, but she had made that mistake once, and it had nearly cost her her soul. She remembered a time when she didn't fear them, but that had been out of overconfident ignorance. Give in now, and she would never be Rose Lalonde again.

But simultaneously, her own body was unbearable. She couldn't stand it. Not to feel it walking and moving on its own accord, obeying someone else's will than her own. Not to be able to see and listen and feel while being treated as an object, literally unable to respond. Her body was a lump of mechanical flesh, carrying her mind around like a cage.

Vriska wasn't inside her mind the way the horrorterrors were, not whispering and cajoling. She was coldly taking control of muscles while leaving Rose's actual self untouched. It was possible to distance herself from it, carefully balancing herself between supreme corruption and ultimate humiliation. As long as she kept that perfect balance, she would be fine. Fine for another heartbeat, another breath of air. She didn't dare think much further than that.

Once the ship was on its way, sails billowing and engines humming, Rose was taken to a chamber below deck. A half-dozen or so troll men and women gathered around her, Vriska standing back and letting them gawk. They crowded in on Rose, talking and pointing and touching her clothes and her hair and her face. There was a running commentary, but Rose wasn't letting herself listen, not letting herself feel. Someone had brought an illustrated book. Someone else asked for a closer look. Vriska nodded and Rose undressed herself.

It must all be happening to someone else. They studied her like price cattle on sale. Her body turned around; her arms raised themselves; her legs moved, letting them see all angles. They crowded her again. Vriska was there too. Poking and prodding, hands and eyes everywhere. She didn't allow herself to feel that, either. Breathe in. Breathe out.

They talked. A decision was made. A set of new clothes was brought forward, nondescript gray, and Rose put them on. A set of handcuffs were handed to her, and she held her arms up while a troll looped them though a ring set in the wall above her head. Vriska sat down on a chair nearby, and the others left.

There were seconds, perhaps minutes, before Rose realized that her body was no longer being controlled. She closed her eyes because she could, hanging her head, slowly evaporating the numbness she had cultivated. She felt a strong urge to cry, but she wasn't going to. She wasn't going to waste whatever dignity she had salvaged.

She was almost hanging from the cuffs, the ring they were attached to being set high enough that only her forefeet touched the floor. Her back was to the ship's hull, fake wooden panels even on the inside. She didn't have a lot of leeway to move, even now that she was able to, but merely having her body be hers again was enough of a relief to override most of the discomfort. Small blessings indeed. She wriggled her fingers slightly, confirming that they were hers. For now.

Rose noted that she was wearing an ill-fitting gray gown of a thick wool-like fabric, several sizes too large, and her shoes were gone. Despite the clothes, she was shivering somewhat. Strands of hair were plastered with cold sweat to her forehead, and wondering where her headband had gone to, she noticed that the Marquise was wearing it wrapped around her wrist.

She made herself relax, suppressing the shudders. It would do her no good to deny that she was frightened, but neither would it do her any good to make that fact any more obvious.

Vriska was leaning back in her black-painted chair, arms casually crossed, watching in silence from a mere few feet away. Rose should say something, but for once she could think of no words.

"Well?" the Marquise said, finally.

"Well, what?" At least she got that perfect mixture of disdain and disinterest right.

"Aren't you going to thank me? I decided to keep you, after all."

Oh. "Really. How very graceful of your majesty."

Vriska chuckled. "I like that. 'Majesty'. You may call me 'Marquise', though."

"How about Vriska Serket?"

"Who?"

Rose's eyes narrowed. There was nothing in the Marquise's face indicating that she had even recognized the name. Rose could think of several possible interpretations of that, though she had to assume it was nothing as simple as an unrelated stranger and a case of mistaken identity. She still didn't know exactly where and when she was. Thinking of it as a mystery to be unraveled made her feel more like herself; her next breath was strong and steady. "Never mind," she said. " _Marquise_. I am oh so grateful that you decided to enslave me. Tell me what horrendous fate you saved me from."

The Marquise snorted. "Weren't you listening?"

"I seem to have had more important business to attend to at the time."

"Hah. I can't say I'm surprised, actually. Your mind is a straaaaaaaange place." She smiled, sharp teeth glinting in the dim lamplight. "And some people do react like that at first. We'll make sure you get used to it, though." Rose hated her tone, but she chose not to rise to it.

"So. Why should I be grateful?"

"Well, you're unique. You're unknown. There is bound to be a huge reward for handing you to the right people in the right offices, not to mention what kind of value you'd have on the black market." She grinned. "And I like money. Fortunately, I like treasure more, and you're priceless. I don't know what Dualscar was thinking just handing you to me."

"Right. Of course I would much rather be in your benign claws than anyone else's."

"Then again, I had a coward who suggested we should kill you immediately before you call down the rest of your species upon us or something lame like that. But see, I'm not a gamblignant for nothing, and killing you would be such a waste. Not that I'd hesitate if you turn out not to be worth it, of course."

"So essentially, I'm a trophy. How delightful."

"That's one way of putting it." The Marquise rose from the chair and went to rest her elbow on the wall next to Rose. "I mean, you're not exactly pretty, but you look enough like a troll and interestingly exotic. I do like the look of your hair." She twisted a strand of it around her finger, and Rose felt another involuntary shudder pass through her body.

She pulled her head away. "You shouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"I'm the kind of dog that _bites_." Rose anticipated being mocked for it, but it was still satisfying to be able to say the words. She was most certainly no mindless object.

Vriska – no, the Marquise – smirked predictably, and she didn't take her hand away from Rose's hair. "With those teeth?" she said. "I don't even know what to feed you with those useless hoofbeast chewers. Not that I don't appreciate the spirit. Wouldn't have it any other way."

"I'm sure we'll have fun. Before the invasion fleet arrives, that is."

"I'll believe that when I see it." The Marquise shrugged. "Besides, that's what hostages are for." She petted Rose's hair to straighten it out. "What's your name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I suppose I could make up a name for you, but I'd like it to be something suitably alien. I'll use your original name if it's good enough."

"I'm Rose Lalonde. Nice to meet you, the pleasure is all yours."

"Rose. Lalonde." The Marquise seemed to be tasting the words. "Yeah, I like that. Rose Lalonde."

"While we're making introductions, what's _your_ name? I'm assuming you're not a nameless Marquise."

"You really _are_ clueless, aren't you? Why were you spying on me if you don't even know who I am?"

"You seemed like such a nice person."

The Marquise snorted again. "I'm known as Marquise Spinneret Mindfang," she said. "Blueblood gamblignant and petticoat seagrift. I'm pretty notorious on the homeworld. You'd better remember it."

"I'll make a note of it, Spinneret."

Mindfang closed her fist in Rose's hair, pulling at it painfully. "I'd like _you_ to call me 'Marquise', though," she said calmly.

Rose would have shrugged if her shoulders hadn't already been pulled up by the cuffs. "Whatever you say, Marquise." It didn't seem to be a point worth arguing, and at least she had been told the name. Unfortunately it didn't seem immediately familiar. She wished she had thought to ask the trolls more about the culture and history of their planet when she had the chance, but it had seemed to be nothing but useless trivia at the time.

"So what were you doing on the Takraska pier?"

"Admiring the sunset, mostly."

"Don't try to be clever. Why were you there?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I said, don't try to be clever." Mindfang's hand drifted down towards Rose's face, pushing the damp bangs aside and finding an eye. Rose squeezed it shut, but she could feel the troll's claws resting on her eyelid. "I don't actually want to damage you, but perhaps you'd only look more exotic one-eyed?"

Rose was shivering again. She pressed her head against the wall to make it stop. "The spaceship I was on dropped me off to have a look around," she said. "But we lost communications. I was on the pier waiting for them to pick me back up." It was the simplest lie she could come up with, but she didn't trust herself with anything more elaborate at this moment.

"You do realize your ship isn't going to get back to you," Mindfang said, tapping a finger against Rose's eyelid. "Her Imperious Condescension guards the homeworld zealously from outsiders. You were extremely lucky just to get close once. That ship of yours is blown to smithereens by now." As she spoke, she finally removed her hand from Rose's head.

"Maybe." Rose opened her eyes again and suppressed a sigh of relief that the story had been accepted. She got the feeling that Mindfang didn't actually care. "Maybe not."

Mindfang chuckled. "Cling to hope if you like. It's charming." She paused. "We didn't find anything that looked like a communications device in your clothes, though. What happened to it?"

"I dropped it." The answer came easy this time. "It wasn't working anyway. Perhaps you could ask your seatroll friend to pick it up for you."

"Perhaps I will." She went back to the chair, leaning her hands against its back. "One more question – what's your species called?"

"Human," Rose replied. She might as well have them get that right. "From the planet Earth. You wouldn't have heard of us."

"I can't say I have, no. But that's the very point. I've owned aliens before, but they weren't nearly as interesting. Human, Earth. Excellent." She turned to leave, but before she reached the door, she spun around to face Rose again, hair whirling. "You'll get a proper introduction to your new life once we get back to the Cove. Think of it as something to look forward to." She smiled, showing a mouthful of fangs, before disappearing. The door slammed shut after her, and Rose was alone.


	7. John

For a moment the trolls simply stared at John. John stared back the best he could, because perhaps you had to stare at each other for a number of seconds before entering a troll's hive? He wouldn't want to offend them any more than he already was. Although maybe they were just surprised to see him. He was pretty surprised to be here himself. He wished he could think of something clever to say, but the spots dancing on the edges of his vision were threatening to black him out completely, and his head ached like someone had banged a wrinklefucker on the back of his neck. With fully heated irons, at that.

The next moment Karkat pulled him inside and the other troll quickly closed the door behind them. Despite the sudden darkness that made John wonder if maybe he had gone blind all of a sudden, the chilly indoor air felt fresh and welcome on his burning skin. "Thanks," he breathed.

"Alright," Karkat said, "What. The. Fucking. Hell." He hadn't let go of John's wrists after pulling him in, but although John could barely see him, the familiar profanity was reassuring.

"Sorry," John mumbled. "Didn't mean to..." He was cut off by his own legs deciding that standing was no longer a thing that was happening. He crumbled in Karkat's arms, burnt skin chafing against cloth and the warmth of the troll. The room around him didn't seem dark any longer, but dancing wildly with bright spots of blackness. Wow. He really was fainting. Karkat was never going to let him live this down, was he?

Karkat was yelling again, and there was another voice, the troll whose face John hadn't seen, but both voices sounded distant as if he was listening from the other end of a long tunnel. He couldn't make out what they were saying. He vaguely noticed that someone was carrying him, and someone's hand was on his forehead, and he wanted to tell them that he was fine, that he wasn't really unconscious, but somehow he had forgotten how to speak. He found himself somewhere cool and soothing and relaxing, and eventually drifted off to dreamless sleep.

*

There were voices, slowly getting through the fog in his mind and registering as words.

 _"But what are we even going to_ do _with him?"_ That was unmistakably Karkat. __

_"I don't know. I still say we have to wait until he regains consciousness before we can make any decisions."_

_"I know! It makes my skin crawl, though. What if he's not alone? What if he's being hunted by a fucking horde of threshcutioners, then what are we going to do? He wasn't out there of his own free will, I tell you, not with that skin!"_

_"We could always have done the easy thing and left him out in the sun. He would have been dead within the hour."_

_"Yeah, but I wasn't damned well going to do that, was I? Neither were you."_

_"True. Most people would, though."_

_"That's only because most people are bastards. Damn it. I still can't get over the way he looked at me. I swear to whatever deity that he recognized me."_

_"And you're sure you've never seen him in your visions?"_

_"How could I be sure? The visions are too disjointed to be sure of anything a lot of the time. I don't_ think _I have. But..."_

*

John blinked his eyes open. He felt drowsy and a little bit itchy and pretty thirsty too, but the headache was gone and he did feel better. Except he had a feeling he had heard a very strange conversation. He didn't hear anything right now, so maybe he had imagined it, even though it hadn't felt like a dream. Because how could Karkat not know who John was? Unless he had ended up in some part of Karkat's timeline before they even started chatting, but no – that one embarrassing trolling attempt had definitely been the first time Karkat met him, so how could he meet him for the first time now? It didn't even make sense. John reached out with one hand and tried to pull himself up to a sitting position, getting a hold of where he was.

His attempt at sitting up was met with slippery failure. He was in some kind of soft, slick bathtub, and trying to get a hold of the edge without realizing just how frictionless it was resulted in him falling down on his back again with a splash. It didn't hurt, though, because the bottom of the tub was perfectly squishy, too. And the water that covered him almost entirely was... Not water at all, actually.

It was green slime. He was in a bathtub full of _green slime_. The very idea made John burst out laughing. It was just so hilariously appropriate, and he had no idea that green slime could be so cozy.

Two troll faces – Karkat and a woman who looked vaguely familiar – appeared above him, looking down. "He doesn't appear to be in full possession of his mental facilities," the woman noted.

"I noticed," Karkat said. He had a very Karkat-y expression, sort of growly and frowning and worried at the same time.

"I'm okay, really," John assured them, trying to stifle his giggles and barely managing to avoid getting into another fit. He made a second and more successful attempt to sit by slipping his legs under himself, though the movement made him feel a little bit light-headed. "I just thought it was funny! It's green slime, you know. Like the green ghost that slimed Bill Murray in that New York hotel!" John paused. "Do you even have Troll Ghostbusters?"

"I wonder if the slime has had unexpected side effects on his think pan," the woman said to Karkat, mostly ignoring John, which was kind of annoying.

"I'm telling you I'm fine," John insisted, rubbing a slimy brow with an equally slimy hand. Green slime. Heh. Where was his glasses, anyway? Karkat and the troll woman were looking at him really funny, and only now did it start to dawn on him that he was naked, which, yes, that was a bit awkward. He was pretty sure he blushed. "Um. Where did my clothes go?"

"You were suffering from solar trauma," the woman said, "We determined that you would heal faster if the cooling slime was allowed direct access to your skin."

"Ah," John said, very eloquently. "Okay. Thanks, I guess." He examined the skin on the back of his arm, all slimy and slippery, but although it felt sort of numb and a little bit itchy – and it was still a bit red – it definitely didn't feel like he was burning up any more. He touched his back to make sure, but there was nothing worse than numbness and some vague soreness. He shook his head to clear it, because this was no laughing matter. "It was pretty bad, wasn't it? How long did I sleep?"

"Not as long as we expected," the woman informed him. "It's barely nightfall."

"And we have no idea how bad it was, because sadly aliens don't come with instruction manuals," Karkat growled.

"Well, your _sun_ should have come with an instruction manual!" John protested. "How can you even live on a planet where the sun tries to fry you alive?"

"We try not to be stupid fucking morons and go outside at high noon, for one thing!" Karkat retorted. "And while I'm at survival advice, don't go knocking on random people's hives! Do you have any idea what kind of an asnine hellhole of a planet this is? Do you have any _infitesimal inkling_ of an idea how lucky you are?"

"Yeah, I know. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't found you here. I'm really glad it was you and not some random stranger!"

Karkat and the woman glanced at each other. "Yeah, I'd say so," Karkat said, strangely gentle. "How do you feel, anyway? I assume you're better because you're not fainting all over the place anymore."

"Yeah," John nodded. "I'm sorry about the fainting thing. I really do feel better, so thanks a lot." He smiled and brushed off some slime running down his shoulder. "Can I have my clothes back now? Please?"

"Can you stand?" Karkat asked in return, handing him a large towel and offering a hand. John took the former and wrapped it around his shoulders, before realizing that he wasn't actually sure if he could or not.

"I think so," he said, taking the offered hand for support. Somehow he managed to get to his feet and stumble out of the slippery tub without completely falling on his face, and only grabbing Karkat's other arm for about half a second. He felt wobbly and his head started spinning as soon as he got upright, but it wasn't all that bad.

"Right," he said, letting go of Karkat's hand and pushing slimy hair out of his eyes. "Where's my clothes?"

"The outfit you were wearing was dirty and had a tear," the woman informed him.

"It was also fucking eye-catching," Karkat added. "Put on something sensible for now." He pointed at a set of clothes neatly laid out on a chair nearby. "Those are mine, but they'll fit if you pull up the sleeves a bit."

"Okay." John shrugged. He just wanted to get dressed. As cozy and awesome the slime was, he didn't want to lie around in it all day long. Although if this was nightfall, he guessed he already had. "You don't happen to have a shower?" he asked before realizing that if they had, he would probably have been already offered one.

"A what?" Karkat asked.

"Nevermind," John said, turning his back on them and started rubbing himself with the towel. "Do you always sleep in slime like this?"

"Not always," the woman replied, "But it is customary especially for younger people. The sopor slime is meant to relax the body and mind. I mixed this particular slime with some skin regenerative oils for you, although we couldn't be certain it would be effective on your species."

"Hey, I'm not complaining, I think it's awesome! And I think it worked, too, like a cool alien skin salve or something. It was my first time sleeping in slime!"

John dried the slime off with the towel as well as he could, though the coarse cloth made his skin itch more. Large swatches of reddish skin were quickly hardening into some kind of crust once out of the slime. He had to slap his hand to remember not to itch at it with his nails. It was healing, dammit!

It was impossible to get all of the slime out of his hair – but it dried pretty interestingly, like some kind of hair gel, leaving his hair spiky and tangled. Perhaps this was why troll hair always seemed so messy? He didn't mind messy hair all that much, although he supposed Dad would have made a fuss about it. That thought made him realize just how unlikely it was that he'd ever see Dad again, but he didn't want to get himself depressed, so he forced himself to stop thinking about it.

The clothes set aside for him were plain black; a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of denim-ish pants. They were indeed a little bit too large, but still okay. Weird, because in John's mind, Karkat was _shorter_ than him. And there was no sign on the shirt, no gray cancer squiggles, nor anything else for that matter. Very weird. According to Vriska, the signs were this Big Thing in troll culture. He found his glasses beside the clothes and put them on, too, suddenly getting a much sharper picture of the dimly lit room and the two trolls. For some reason that made his head spin again, so he breathed deeply and sat down on the chair. He found himself staring.

He really should have noticed it from the start, but he had been kind of preoccupied with fainting and wobbling, and it was pretty subtle, but Karkat was definitely taller than he had been. Taller than John, too. And his face was just a little bit more mature, like he was closer to his upper than lower teens. The shirt he was wearing was just as plain black and signless as the one he had handed to John.

As for the woman, she _was_ wearing a sign, a green M with a knot thing, and wasn't that for – Virgo, right? Which meant she should be Kanaya, and sure, that seemed right. She had those mismatched horns, too. But this woman must be at least Dad's age, so how did that even work? Wasn't Karkat and Kanaya the same age, for one thing?

"I'm a little bit confused," he admitted. "What the hell is going on?"

"Oh sweet mothergrub," the woman who looked like Kanaya said, touching her forehead with her fingers.

Karkat put himself in front of John with feet spread apart and arms crossed. "I like that question," he said, "But I want to see you answer it first. You _recognize_ me, don't you?"

"Yes! Of course I do! I recognize both of you, but... but it's weird and a little bit off? Like, you're both older, but she's even more older, and you're not wearing your sign, and—"

Karkat gasped loud enough that it made John stop in his tracks. Kanaya was staring at him too, eyes wide.

"Did I just say something culturally inappropriate?" John bit his lip.

"No," Karkat said, after a moment of silence. "You just suggested that I had a sign."

"Well, you did! I thought all trolls did. Isn't that how it works?"

"All trolls _except me_." He wasn't even cursing, and it was hard to tell if he sounded bitter or amused. Perhaps both.

John started to have a bad feeling about this. "Well, this is a really weird question," he said. "But do you recognize _me_? Like, at all?"

Karkat shook his head, and Kanaya sighed. "No, we don't," she said.

"Okay, then." John smiled, more out of nervousness than happiness. "We're all confused. How are we going to unconfuse ourselves out of this? I mean, I do know you! Karkat, you're my really good friend in a sort of weird way, and Kanaya, you used to be really snarky and cool and my friend Rose's best troll buddy. But both of you were my age, then."

Karkat didn't say anything. He had crossed his arms against his chest and was watching John with an unreadable expression on his face.

"How old are you?" Kanaya asked, as if that was the most important question.

"Thirteen – I mean, that would be six in troll years. Sweeps."

She nodded. "That's what I imagined. You're a child."

"Well, bluh bluh. Sorry for being a kid. I'm serious, though."

Karkat and Kanaya exchanged silent glances, and John was starting to feel annoyed that they didn't _say_ anything.

"Wait. You think I'm crazy, don't you?" It struck John that he might be coming across like a raving lunatic. Rose would have gotten a kick out of it. He grimaced. "This is so much more awkward in person than over Pesterchum. Like, I would probably not believe me if I were you before we met!" He looked up at the ceiling. "Jegus, that sounded so stupid. I guess this is some kind of alternate timeline or something? Can I start over? Hi, I'm John!"

"Actually," Kanaya said, "No one said we didn't believe you."

"Would be pretty hypocritical not listen," Karkat added.

"Really? Why?"

Karkat snorted. "Because I'm a freak, too."

John tilted his head. "Is that about blood color? Because the other you told me about that, and I still don't understand why bright red would be a weird color to have. It's like saying that Corn Flakes aren't real cereal! And you guys seem to have every other color of the rainbow, so why would...?" John looked at Karkat and lost his trail of thought.

Karkat was _smiling_. John had never seen Karkat smile, and never heard anyone mention him smiling, and never seen him type anything that looked like he would be smiling – in fact, he had had serious doubts regarding whether Karkat was able to. It looked weird on him. But kind of nice. Friendly, even with the fangs, different from the way Vriska always smirked.

"Okay, that does it," Karkat said, beaming. "You're not making this up. There is _no way in hell_ you could have known that by looking at me."

"Indeed," Kanaya said, looking much more somber. "Are you sure you're happy that he knows, though?"

"'Rosa, he's an _alien_. It's not like he's going to go tell on us!"

"I suppose that's true."

"I want you to tell me what you've seen," Karkat said excitedly, turning to John again. "About the other me. Did he really have candy red blood and a _sign_?"

"Yeah. But the sign wasn't red, it was gray, and he was typing in gray too. Because apparently he couldn't tell anyone about the color of his blood. Except he did, because we were pals, and also because the situation was kind of special. And besides, everyone on my planet has that color blood, so it wasn't like—"

"Really?" Karkat's eyes widened. "Are you saying you're... I saw your sign and assumed you were blue, though I guess that doesn't have to apply to aliens. But, really? Can I see it?"

"See what?"

"Your blood!" Karkat produced a knife from somewhere and closed in on John, and suddenly John wasn't sure what to think anymore. He instinctively got back to his feet, fighting a new wave of dizziness and supporting himself against a wall, holding out the other hand for protection and already feeling threads of wind gathering between his fingers.

"Karkat! What are you doing?"

"I'm not going to _hurt_ you, dumbass! If I had wanted to hurt you, you wouldn't even be standing there now like a shivering squeekbeast, you'd be cut to ribbons small enough that even your lusus wouldn't recognize you." John wasn't sure if that was reassuring or not. "I just want to see your blood."

Karkat grabbed John's outstretched hand, and for some reason John nodded and went along with it. The knife pricked his forefinger, and Karkat stared in what looked like pure awe at the brilliant red drop that formed.

"'Rosa, look at this! Fucking look at it! It's a sign, I told you it was a sign!" He pricked his own finger and held it up for John to see that his blood was the exact same color, then touched their fingers together, mixing the two blood drops into one.

John grinned. Karkat had been right that it was pretty stupid to think he would hurt him, even if he wasn't really the same Karkat. Whoever he was, he looked ridiculously happy over this little thing. "Told ya dawg," he said, even though the troll wouldn't understand the reference, and basically ignored him.

Kanaya – well, the one Karkat had called 'Rosa' – examined their fingers with just as much wonder. "I don't know what to say," she said. "I admit I had never considered alien blood colors before."

Karkat blinked furiously, and John suspected he was trying not to cry. He took his finger to his mouth and licked the blood away, before looking at John again and repeating, softly, "It's a sign."

"But my sunburns are red, too," John pointed out, rubbing his fingers together to wipe off the blood. "Wasn't that a clue?"

"Burns are always reddish in color," Rosa told him. "Your natural skin tone seems to be close to pink, which, knowing the color of your blood, might suggest that your skin is half transparent, but we didn't know this." She turned to Karkat. "It would seem his version of reality is different than yours, though," she told him.

Karkat's smile twisted into something a little bit wistful. "Yes. It's not the same as what I'm seeing."

"Yeah," John agreed. "I guess I'm not from this reality." He was wondering about that, though. The most obvious guess would be a different timeline, but that would suck, wouldn't it? Because if he had understood Dave right, alternative timelines were Doomed, and that would mean either that this place and everyone here was about to be destroyed, or that his troll friends had never existed at all – and he hated to think either of that was true. But something Vriska had said made him think there was another possibility. Maybe.

"Well," Karkat said. "You're obviously not, but that's not what we were talking about. You see, I'm not just a freak because of my blood, I'm a freak because I _see things_. Another world, where things are different from here. But you're not from that world either. My blood mutation means nothing in that place."

"You dream about another world? It doesn't happen to be a golden city planet with a moon attached by a chain, does it? Or a purple one like that?"

"Eh?" Karkat looked incredulous. "No."

"Good! Because that would have meant you were about to go to Sburb again, and that would have been horrible."

"You stopped making any fucking sense five or six sentences ago."

"Oh." John stopped and considered. "I'm sounding like Jade, aren't I? I'll try not to be vague and infuriating, okay! But it's really a long, long story." His head was starting to ache again, and he slumped back into the chair, rubbing his temples absently with his fingers. "Do you have anything to drink?" he asked. "I'm really thirsty."

The adult Kanaya nodded at Karkat. "Get him something," she told him.

"Of course." Karkat disappeared behind a corner away from the little alcove with the slimetub-bed.

The woman kept her eyes on John. "Your name is 'John', right?" she asked.

"John Egbert, yes. Is your name 'Rosa'?"

"No," she replied. "That's just a diminutive of my description. I'm a Dolorosa."

"What's that?" It sounded like something he might have heard in church sometime, but it wasn't like he could remember what it meant.

"It doesn't matter. You can use it to refer to me, if you like."

"Okay. The other you was called Kanaya, but I'd rather use _your_ name if you're not her."

"Dolorosa is fine." She paused, then nodded in the direction Karkat had disappeared to. "Listen, that child is a dreamer. He already likes you and thinks you're a sign of great things to come. I know it had to happen some time, and I don't blame you for it at this point, but let me tell you this: If you hurt him in any way, I'm going to kill you myself. Do you understand?"

John blinked once. "Yeah, I got that," he said quickly. "I wasn't going to, Jegus. Are you his mother? I didn't think trolls had mothers."

The Dolorosa made a disgusted noise. "I certainly didn't birth his egg out of my own body like a mothergrub if that's what you're implying."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to insult you! I guess not, then."

Karkat-who-wasn't-really-Karkat came back at that moment, handing a large glass of something to John. "Here you go. What were you talking about?"

John took it gratefully. It seemed to be plain water, though with an oddly sweet aftertaste. It was refreshing in any case, and exactly what he needed.

"Our guest was making an alien observation about the relationship between you and me," the Dolorosa replied to Karkat's question.

Karkat snorted. "You don't have to be an alien to wonder about that," he said. "You're just as much of a freak as I am, 'Rosa."

"He used to word 'mother'."

Karkat's grimace mirrored the Dolorosa's. "That's fucking gross! Show some respect! We did save your grubfucking life."

"Sorry," John said again. "I didn't know that was such an indecent word. You have so many weird alien taboos."

"Look who's talking about being weird." Karkat shrugged. "So what happened to you? Why did you come here? Did you get lost looking for the other me?"

"It was more like I got lost trying to get home. Except it wasn't just me, it was my three human friends and a bunch of troll kids, too. That's including the other you and the other her." He pointed. "I have no idea what happened to any of them, and I'm sort of worried."

"Sounds really messed up. Was that here on Alternia? Or on your planet?"

"No. It was somewhere else, sort of in a game outside of the universe, except at first we were in different sessions and everyone kept getting killed, and then we crashed it. Which is why I ended up here, basically."

Karkat snorted a half-laughter. "I'm going to make you explain that, sooner or later," he said. "But there's one thing I want to know first, okay? Did anyone follow you from wherever you were?"

"No, no." John shook his head. "I don't think so at least, because I was all alone when I woke up here, and I don't even know if my friends made it here or somewhere else or back to Earth."

"Hmm. And you 'woke up' right outside here? In the middle of the day?"

"Yeah. There wasn't a lot I could do about it. I still think your sun is evil!"

"Okay, let's say I accept all that, which I kind of do until further notice, because if the impossible was really impossible I wouldn't be alive in the first place."

John smiled. "Exactly! I could say the same, and I definitely believe nothing is impossible."

Karkat smiled back. "You said your name was John?"

"John Egbert, human from Earth, at your service!" John made a mock salute. "You never told me your name! I keep thinking of you as Karkat, but that's not right, is it?"

The troll's smile became a bit lopsided. "Go ahead and call me Karkat," he said. "He was your friend, wasn't he?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then I'm honored if you call me that." His tone told John that the matter was settled, although the Dolorosa raised her eyebrows behind him.

"Okay. If you say so, Karkat." He wasn't sure if that was going to be more confusing or less.

"Are you hungry? We could talk more over a grubsandwitch."

That sounded incredibly alien and unappetizing, even though John did feel his stomach grumble a little bit at the mention of food. "Thanks, but not right now," he said. In any case, he figured he should probably ask the question he had been thinking about as soon as possible. His doubts about alternative timelines and the alien stuff that Vriska had told him weren't going away. These two people looked like Karkat and Kanaya, but she was like his trollmom even if that was not actually a thing and he didn't have a sign and if this was an alternative timeline it was _very_ different. But there was something else it could be, and that would be kind of incredibly awesome. He swiped the rest of the water from his glass. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"I hope this isn't too personal or anything, but it's important. See, I think I'm on to something here that could help unconfuse us some more." He took a deep breath. "Do either of you know anything about your personal Ancestors?"

"As if I'd even have one!" Karkat scuffed. "I'm a fucking mutant."

"No," the Dolorosa said. "He's right that he probably doesn't have one, and I have never found out anything about mine."

"Okay." That didn't confirm anything, but he was pretty sure it fitted. Now for the interesting part. "But have you ever heard of a pirate called Marquise Spinneret Mindfang?"

Karkat shook his head, but the Dolorosa looked thoughtful. "I have a feeling I have seen that name somewhere. If it's really important, I could always check with the Network."

"Oh! You have internet!" Why hadn't he thought to ask about that to begin with? It wasn't completely good news, as it made him wonder if he was wrong and this was an alternative reality after all, but – _internet_. It was a life line. "Check it, please! Where's the computer?" John got up from his chair again, and this time he felt more or less fine except for a very vague and easily ignored ache in the back of his head. He peered around the corner into the larger part of the room, but though there was a lot of interesting alien furniture, he didn't see anything that looked like a computer.

As it turned out, the computer was a half-transparent blob-like _thing_ that covered the better part of a desk. The way it was pulsating, John almost believed it was alive. He must have stared pretty obviously, because as the Dolorosa touched it on the side – tenderly, almost like she was petting it – she told him evenly, "It's a computer grub. Is this the first time you see one?"

"Yeah." John swallowed as a damp glowing screen emerged from the main part of the thing and rested against the wall behind it. He hadn't actually seen what his troll friends had been using, but he had sort of assumed it had been normal machine computers. Of course, there may be different types on Alternia, too, especially if this was some sort of very _old_ Alternian computer? "We have computers, but they're not grubs! This is very alien."

What happened on the screen wasn't all that alien, on the other hand. At first he couldn't quite make out what it said – it looked like that much nonsensical foreign scribbles, but after he rubbed his eyes it looked more or less like normal English. Weird, but he didn't dwell on it. He had been speaking and typing in English with the aliens all the while, and that was obviously the way it was supposed to be.

"I was right," the Dolorosa said. "Look." She pointed at the screen, and John thought it looked like some kind of newsfeed. 'Marquise Spinneret Mindfang' was mentioned along with the word 'gamblignant' and something about plundering a coastal town and disappearing before reinforcements could arrive.

"Is this news?" John asked, feeling his heart make a little jump. "Is it happening right now?"

"This particular event is stamped two weeks ago," the Dolorosa replied. She turned to Karkat who was looking over her other shoulder. "You should read the newsscrollers more often. Sometimes it's good to know these things." That sounded very much like something a Mom would say, no matter what she claimed.

"Whatever," Karkat said. "How is this relevant?"

"Because!" John turned to Karkat with a huge grin and put his hands on the troll's shoulders, jumping up and down and not caring about the headache at all. "I figured out where this is! It's not an alternative reality, it's the _past_! It all makes sense!"

"John, hold your hoofbeasts and try to make stop speaking in riddles for _once_ , will you? Are you saying you come from _the future_?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying!"

"Excuse me for being a little bit skeptic about that explanation, but doesn't that imply that your friends were our _Descendants_?"

"They must be! Vriska was another of my friends, and she told me all about it and said that her Ancestor was Marquise Spinneret Mindfang who lived hundreds of years ago! Except that is now!"

"Yeah, no." Karkat shook his head, mouth twisting into a grimace. "I don't know who your Karkat was, but he can't have been my Descendant. No way. For one thing, the mothergrub isn't going to make the same mistake twice, and that's assuming she would even accept genetic material from me in the first place."

"Oh, it might be a little bit more complicated than that and involve space labs and ghost slime and meteors, but of course you have a Descendant! Didn't you just tell me five minutes ago that nothing was impossible?"

Karkat pursed his lips. "Right," he said. "I just didn't... I mean..." He pushed John's hands away and turned his back on him. "I need to think about that. Okay?" He went and slumped into what looked like a bean bag chair at the other end of the room.

"Are you okay?" John tried to follow him, but he waved him away.

"I'm fine," he said. "Can you just shut up for a while? I need to wrap my think pan around this, and I think it's pretty fucking important." He closed his eyes, and John hesitated. On the one hand, he wanted to talk to the signless Karkat, tell him all about the cancer Karkat in the future – but on the other hand, there was another thing he wanted to do even more. A tiny ray of hope that occurred to him when the troll internet was brought up.

"Dolorosa?" he said, going back to her at the computer. "Do you have a chat client there?"

"Of course."

"Could I borrow it for a moment? It's a long shot, but I'd like to try to find my friends."

"That does indeed sound like a long shot." She looked somewhat apologetic, and John's heart sank. "If your alien friends are elsewhere on Alternia, they are in all likelihood either dead or worse than dead by now. They're not going to be in any position to access the Network. You have to understand that you probably found the only people on this world who wouldn't kill you on sight _at best_. You were lucky."

"But—"

"I'm glad that you seem to have discovered a frame of reference, and I have to admit the idea of finding out about my own Descendant is fascinating." Her green lips quirked into a small smile. "But there is so much you need to learn about actual Alternian society. I'm sorry to tell you this, but those who are different aren't generally welcomed here."

"I guess I knew that, but—"

"Then you know that you would be better off not searching for your friends. Put them out of your mind and if anything, hope that they are not on this planet."

"No way! I can't just forget about them, that's stupid! Besides, some of my friends are trolls, and they could be here too. Please let me try, at least?"

"Let him," the signless Karkat said from the bean bag. He hadn't even opened his eyes, but he was obviously listening. "Just make sure he gets his own goddamned account and doesn't go around pretending to be you or me."

The Dolorosa sighed. "Alright. I guess there's no harm in it." She rose and let John sit in the desk chair, pointing at the icon that contained the chat. "Do you know how to use it?"

"I think so." The keyboard was kind of spongy, but John was determined to use it, and the chat worked like a chat should, which is to say, like Pesterchum. It was surprisingly similar, actually. It was like the technology was intentionally compatible with what he was used to. It didn't even surprise him much – the various chat clients and internets had been perfectly compatible in the Medium, so why wouldn't they be now? Even if this was a long time ago in a galaxy far far away, heh. There were two accounts available, a green one called "grubAlternative" and a gray one called "cardinalGift", but he left them alone and found himself creating a new account without even having to stop to think about how.

A moment later he had an "ectoBiologist", set in his usual bright blue, but going on to the next step made him feel a little bit ill, like he had eaten too much cake again. He shouldn't hope too much. The Dolorosa was probably right, and it would be a lot better if Rose and Jade and Dave weren't here in the first place. But still. Anything was worth a shot.

He took a deep breath and added "tentacleTherapist". The name showed on his list as non-active.

EB: rose?  
EB: are you there?  
EB: please tell me you're ok!

No reply. He went on to add "gardenGnostic". It was non-active, too.

EB: jade!  
EB: you're not there, are you?  
EB: i really hope you're ok.

No reply there either. It could mean _anything_. He left the two chats open and went on to add "turntechGodhead". Unexpectedly, the name glowed bright red, active and online, and as soon as he added it a previously entered message popped up.

TG: hey egbert  
TG: where are you man  
TG: we screwed up crashing the game  
TG: i cant reach the trolls on pesterchum  
TG: but im in an alien city  
TG: indiana strider and the alien backalley  
TG: im gonna explore  
TG: later

The lines were sent several hours ago, but Dave was online now, too. John almost threw himself at the keyboard.

EB: dave!  
EB: you have no idea how glad i am to hear from you!  
EB: where are you, bro?

There was a short pause before the reply. John had time to wonder why Dave was online and no one else and if that meant they were all here after all and if the girls were in trouble and what Dave had been up to since the last message and a thousand other questions. When the answer came, it wasn't what John expected at all.

TG: 3GB3RT


	8. Jade

The troll who wasn't quite Eridan was suddenly going very tense behind Jade. His hands were holding the seahorse's reins, but his arms were tightening around her, making it impossible to move. "Wwhat did you say?" he demanded again.

"I _said_ , I think I knew your Descendant."

The troll growled – an almost bubbling sound in his throat – and let go of the reins, getting his hands free to grab Jade by the shoulders and painfully push her back and twist her upper body around, forcing her to face him. The mount didn't seem to mind, and kept flying on at great speed.

"Genetic Ancestry is not a glubbin' joke." He was showing a lot of teeth. "Wwhat do you evven know about it, alien?"

"I told you, my name is _Jade_!" Jade tried to shake his grip, but he was stronger, and she didn't dare struggle too much while they were flying. She really didn't want to fall back into the sea. "I don't know all that much, really! Eridan said trolls have Ancestors that contribute most of your genes, and you really look and sound a lot like him, so it only makes sense!"

Not-Eridan's claws were digging into her shoulders, but his snarl was softening, changing his expression into something Jade would almost have thought was desperate hope. He was staring at her with wide eyes, yellow tinted with bright purple around the pupils. "Are you sayin'—" His voice was strained. "Are you sayin' a Descendant of mine has already hatched out there somewwhere?"

"Yes!!" Jade nodded empathically, but then she hesitated, because that probably wasn't quite true except in the paradoxal sense. "Well. Sort of. I mean, he definitely exists out there somewhere in paradox space, but I don't know if he's been born yet! Probably not, because you still have the rifle, and he had it when I met him, so that's still in the future!"

The troll let go of her ungently with a disgusted hiss. "The future," he muttered, voice thick with both disbelief and disappointment.

"Yes, the future!" Jade insisted. "As in, things that are going to happen, but haven't yet from your point of view? But they will, so just because it's the future doesn't make it any less true!"

"Wwhat are you, some kind of wwitch?"

"Well, I _am_ a witch. The witch of space."

"That's just fintastic. An alien space wwitch. You could be a Blind Prophet and I couldn't care less. Wwhere are your wwands, wwitch?"

"Nooo, I don't use wands! I'm not that kind of wwitch! I mean, witch. But my friend Rose does."

"Really noww. How many of you little airbreathing wwrigglers are you going to drop on us? It's fuckin' ridiculous. I dunno howw you're getting close enough to the planet in the first place, but it's gotta be the most pathetic attempt at invasion I've evver seen. Wwhat're you evven doin' here anywway except bein' fuckin' insane and ugly and barely wworth the sorry air you breathe?"

Jade sighed. "Wow, I don't think you could be any more condescending if you tried. You don't think I was swimming in the middle of the ocean because I wanted to, do you?"

"I don't care."

"If you don't care, why did you pick me up in the first place?" Jade frowned at the dark sea before them over the head of the seahorse. She still couldn't see anything but slightly blurry water.

"I couldn't hardly let you be loose on the homewworld, noww could I?" He snorted loudly. "I'm sorta hoping the Condesce wwill find you and your little alien wwitch invasion amusing. If she doesn't, at least the Grand Highblood wwill havve a neww toy. Now shaddap or I'll go underwwater the rest of the wway."

"You can't do that!" Jade protested. "I'd drown!"

"That's the idea."

Jade clenched her teeth in annoyance. He really could kill her. Very very easily. And that was so stupid – being killed by someone who was more or less Eridan would be the most stupid way to go _ever_. Perhaps even stupider than swimming forever in the ocean and dying of exhaustion. Or perhaps not. She didn't like either choice. But on the other hand, it wasn't like shutting up would get her anywhere safe either. She didn't like what this guy was implying at all. Oh god she was so tired.

"Look," Jade said. She had to get through to him. "It doesn't matter if you believe me or not, but – you really _want_ to have a Descendant, don't you?" If there was one thing she could tell from that look he had given her, it was that.

"Wwho wwouldn't?" Not-Eridan growled irritably. Jade steeled herself, wondering for a terrifying moment if he was going to go through with his threat. She would have been lying if she had said she knew what she was doing. She had no idea – all she knew was that this was the one thing he had responded to, and she didn't have all that much to bargain with.

But he didn't dive. He kept talking. "Wwould be reel nice to knoww your stuff is good. But it's not like anyone evver fuckin' knowws for _shore_ about these things."

Jade blinked. Did he just fish-pun at her? "Well," she said, " _I_ know for sure! I could tell you!"

"I don't believe in alien space wwitches."

"Good _gog_ , then I guess I'm a figment of your imagination? I almost wish I was. Why is it so hard to believe that you're going to have a Descendant?"

He snorted loudly. "I dunno that it's hard to believe. I'vve got a good kismessitude goin'. Saw her only this evvening, she's got it nice and pitch for me. Less good wwith the red stuff, but I knoww there'd be sparks if only she'd fuckin' see me. Wwhich she wwon't. Wwhatevver, wwhy the hell am I evven tellin' you this?"

Jade relaxed a little bit. The troll had taken the reins again, and his body was cold as a reptile's against her back, but this was more like small talk than I'm-going-to-kill-you talk, and she appreciated that. It was amazing how much this guy sounded like Eridan, but she guessed even Eridan was a person – and as opposed to him, this man hadn't actually trolled her with pathetic disgusting flirts for years. "I don't know," she said. "Perhaps you just want to talk about it with someone? When you have trouble, sometimes it helps just to tell someone about it."

The troll twitched. "Oh swweet glubbin' Gl'bgolyb. How do you figure I don't have a moirail?"

"What? I didn't say anything about—"

"Because I don't, and that wwas the most blatant pale solicitation I'vve recievved in my glubbin' life."

"But I—"

"Look, _alien_. It wwould be fun, but I don't think you'vve got wwhat it takes. I mean, howw desperate wwould you havve to be?"

Jade grimaced. She wasn't sure exactly what he was talking about, but she was having some very unfortunate Eridan flashbacks, and the way he kept calling her 'alien' was getting on her nerves. "' _Jade_ '," she insisted. "My name is Jade. You haven't even told me yours!"

"I'm the Orphaner," he replied. "Dualscar." Jade couldn’t remember seeing any scars in his face, but perhaps he had them elsewhere. He leaned forward and added in a whisper close to her ear, "Tell me, _Jade_. Wwas he happy? Did he fill his quadrants?"

Jade didn't have to ask who he meant, but it was still an uncomfortable question. Not because she couldn't answer, but because the answers were, to the best of her knowledge, 'no' and 'no'. Which wouldn't be what Dualscar wanted to hear. "Well," she said, "He wasn't grown up when I met him, so I'm not sure. He was about my age, which is six sweeps or so for a troll? But I know he had a rivalry thing with the spidergirl for a while."

"Spidergirl."

"Vriska! She had an eye with a lot of pupils and liked eights a lot?"

"I see." As Dualscar was leaning forward, Jade didn't have to turn a lot to see his face. His sharp teeth glinted uncomfortably close to her face, but he seemed to be smiling. "Any others?"

"I'm pretty sure he had a thing with Feferi? She was the fish princess. I think she was next in line to inherit the throne or something, except..." Except the world ended, but did it really, now that they had broken the game? If Jade was in the past, there was no telling what happened in the future, and it felt horrible, again, to have no idea. Did the future change? Did it stay the same? What happened to the troll players, really, in all that chaos in the Furthest Ring?

Dualscar didn't seem to notice her hesitation, because his smile was getting wider, turning into a full chuckling laughter as he leaned back again. "The princess! Wwell that's good for him." He stopped laughing abruptly, and his next words were cold. "Wwhere wwould you evven get such an outrageous story?"

"I _met_ them." Jade resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "In the future. I told you. Feferi was really nice."

"You wwill tell no one about this," Dualscar snapped, and suddenly the seahorse started diving sharply downward. For a moment Jade feared she had made him angry and he was going to drown her after all, but to her great relief there was a ship waiting for them below.

Her relief was shortlived as Dualscar pushed her off the mount without warning and she fell the last six or seven feet, bruising her knees and hands and ending up dazed on the hard metal deck. "What are you doing?" she managed, voice less annoyed and a little bit more frightened than she wanted it to be.

Dualscar completely ignored her as he dismounted and patted the seahorse on the neck, dismissing it back into the ocean. Then he touched a slimy interface on one of the vent-like protrusions on the deck. "Cowwards and cravvens!" he called. "All avvailable hands to me!"

Jade stumbled to her feet, feeling like it had been years since she had stood on her legs. The soft rolling of the ship felt comparatively solid as a rock, but her legs were shaking, not quite willing to stand up so fast. She steadied herself against the steel pipe railing, trying to get the layout of the ship, wishing she had still had her glasses.

A dozen or more trolls milled out on the deck – men and women, all of them grown-ups and most of them tall – from the stern and the bow and the tower at the center. They were mostly paying attention to the Orphaner, but some cast curious or disgusted glances in Jade's direction. Most of them did not have fins on their faces, she noticed.

One of the ones who did have finned cheeks – a woman with three horizontal parallel purple stripes on her shirt – raised her hands to her horns in some kind of silly salute. "Welcome back, M'lord Dualscar," she said.

Dualscar didn't return the salute. "Yeah yeah, I'm back," he said. "I brought a—" He paused and waved vaguely towards Jade. "—a _guest_. Wwhen wwill the Condesce be in attendance next?"

"I believe that would be in two nights' time, m'lord," the other seatroll said. She threw a somewhat repulsed glance at Jade. "Can I ask what that is, sir?"

"It's an alien, wwhat does it look like?" Dualscar snarled. "Can someone tie her up or somefin before she decides to go squeekbeasting through the hold?"

Squeekbeasting through the hold did actually sound like a good idea, but Jade wasn't sure she could have managed to get away even if she had been less wobbly and blurry-eyed. She was surrounded by trolls who were all a lot larger than her, and despite everything her grandfather had taught her, she was away from home without a single rifle. She hated that – even when she finally had something solid to stand on, it still wasn't going to be easy to defend herself. And Dualscar didn't look like he was much interested in her story after all. He wasn't even looking at her, unlike everyone else right now.

Jade hesitantly held up her hands showing that she meant no harm. "Hi," she tried. There were a lot of different signs on the trolls' shirts, most blue and purple, some teal, but none that she recognized other than Dualscar's. And none of their faces looked the slightest bit friendly.

No one replied. The closest troll – a man with an uneven blue star on his chest – completely ignored Jade's gesture and grabbed her arms, twisting them rudely and painfully behind her back. She squirmed and told him in no uncertain terms to get off her, but he ignored that, too. "Sir," he said, "Do you want us to put her away? The slave hold is fully stocked, but I'm sure we could arrange—"

"Just tie her to the railin' for all I care." Dualscar sounded preoccupied with other thoughts.

"Yes, sir." He produced a pair of handcuffs from somewhere, and Jade twitched. That was way beyond rude and proceeding into the area marked 'not even funny'. There was no need for that. It wasn't like she was a threat to them. She'd be perfectly reasonable if they were!

Jade elbowed the troll in the guts, making him lose his grip – more out of surprise than pain, she suspected, but enough for her to slip out if his hold. "You don't have to do that!" she yelled. Crap, had that guy actually said 'slave hold'? "I'm not going to—" She got all of two steps away before another crewmember intercepted her and grabbed her again, not even bending her arms very far back, but holding her immobile with a grip hard enough to hurt. Jade barely had time to see the first guy staring at her with dangerously narrow eyes before her face exploded.

She had never been punched in the face before, and it took a moment before the impact, the ringing sound in her ears and finally the pain caught up with her enough to understand what happened. There was blood in her mouth, her own teeth having torn the inside of her cheek up, and her eyes refused to focus for several seconds. When they finally did, the troll with the blue star was raising his fist again. She cowered instinctively, pushing against the troll behind her.

"Enough," someone said, and Jade was almost surprised that it was Dualscar. "I'd prefer if the alien wwasn't broken before I decide wwhat to do wwith it."

"Yes sir. I'm sorry, m'lord." The bluestar troll lowered his hand, though he cast an angry look Jade's way.

Dualscar waved him away and nodded at the troll holding Jade now, who went on to efficiently tie Jade's wrists to the top bar of the railing with sticky black tape.

"This is so unnecessary," Jade said, struggling weakly and swallowing blood and getting thoroughly ignored again. It vaguely occurred to her that Dualscar had said he wasn't sure what to do with her, which might possibly be a good thing, but other than that this situation felt utterly horrible. She sank to her knees, pulling angrily at the tape, as her hands were stuck too high to sit down properly. Damn it. Grandpa would have had such a lecture for her right now.

"The slavve hold's full, you said?" she heard Dualscar ask someone, as if she was already forgotten. "I guess you had some luck wwith the raids."

"Yes, sir." It was the purple threestripe woman. "We cornered those would-be gamblignant lowblood youngsters and are looking at a neat profit."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Well, apart from the loot from the new slaves," she said, "We've found some interesting new artifacts at..." Her voice drifted away as she and Dualscar moved gradually out of Jade's ear range. Soon, they were out of sight as well, disappearing into the centership tower.

Jade sighed, which turned into a despairing whine. She glared at the crewmembers remaining on deck, but most of them were trickling away too, and the ones that didn't weren't paying her any attention. This might actually be worse than swimming in the middle of the ocean, because at least then there was something to do, even if it was just to keep swimming. Now, she was _stuck_. Stuck and hurt and uncomfortable and scared and what the hell was she supposed to do now? The left side of her face felt hot and aching, and the way her left eyelid didn't want to stay open probably meant it was swelling. Her mouth felt all sore and weird and tasted like blood all over, and her head was throbbing with every heartbeat. And she was so very tired.

She drew a shaky breath and got back to her feet, facing the ocean. At least the wind was cool and pleasant on her face. The green moon was hovering close to the horizon, right in front of her from this angle, larger than the Earth's moon. She looked down at her shoes. They were still computers, a little soggy, but nothing that her lunchtop wouldn't be able to handle. She wondered where Dave and John and Rose were. If they were here and now or somewhere else, somewhen else. If they were doing any better than her at all. She was almost afraid to find out, but it would be so good if she could only confirm that they were fine. But with her hands stuck like this – and they were already starting to go tingly like the bloodflow was cut off, and that realization made her pull harder at the bonds, not that it helped – she wouldn't be able to use the virtual keyboard even if she managed to pull it up.

"Grubsucking fuckass," she mumbled, channeling Karkat.

Tears welled in her eyes, stinging in the bruised one. She tried to push them down at first, didn't want to be a crybaby like her stupid dead dreamself sprite, but she in the end she just let it go. She sagged back down on her knees, leaned her head against the cold metal railing and sobbed herself to sleep.

She didn't dream.


	9. Rose

The solitude was a blessing. Rose wasn't confident that there were no cameras, but she couldn't see any, and she couldn't _feel_ the trolls looking at her like this. She tried to relax, but for some reason she failed to completely stop herself from shivering. She wasn't technically hurt. It wasn't like she had been beaten or wounded. And yes, she was perfectly cognizant that what she had just been through was a trauma, but she had neither the inclination nor the necessary focus of mind to try to sort it out at the present time. In fact, she was quite certain she would rather not think about it ever, no matter how psychologically unhealthy such a response was.

What she did want to think about was how to get out of here. There had to be a way. There were always ways. The dark spot in her mind was whispering to her, suggesting a quick and easy way to escape, _break it, tear it apart, kill them all_. But no, giving in to that would be no less slavery than staying. Perhaps she'd have to be a little more patient than she had been lately, but the so called 'Marquise Spinneret Mindfang' could hardly be a more unbeatable foe than the entire world of Sburb had been. She could do this. She could do this on her own.

Her mind drifted briefly to the human friends she had lost track of. If they were indeed on the same planet it was possible – even likely – that they had found themselves in similar sort trouble as herself. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach, but she finally stopped shaking. She had to liberate herself, and maybe not only for her own sake.

Rose could think of one thing that might possibly be to her advantage. Mindfang hadn't tried to control her again, even for a second, once she let go. Not even when she was threatening her. And she did mention that Rose's mind was a 'strange place'. Of course it wouldn't be outwardly obvious, but there was a distinct possibility that controlling Rose was in some way unpleasant or exhausting to the Marquise. Even though the idea of putting herself in the position of enduring more mind control than strictly necessary was abhorrent, Rose might be able to exploit that if it came down to it.

The fact that Mindfang did not appear to be Vriska was worth considering, too. Reviewing Eridan's actions back at the pier, Rose concluded he might not have been the same person she remembered either. Mindfang had referred to him as 'Dualscar'. Perhaps the game had erased their memories, or restarted their timelines, subtly erasing its own influence on reality – though that raised the question why Rose herself was not altered. There might also be something else altogether going on. For all she knew, trolls always hatched as identical multiplets. It was something she would have to look into if and when she had the chance, but now was not the time.

Her arms ached, supporting part of her weight, and her hands were starting to go numb from the pressure. Her feet were stuck in an irritating position where she couldn't quite put them down, but neither could she hold them up in any comfortable way, and her toes were starting to feel like lumps of rock. She had to wonder if the arrangement was meant to be this way, keeping her uncomfortable to eat at her nerves and sap her will, or if she was merely too short for it. Judging by the size of the clothes, clearly manufactured for an adult troll, she would not be hard-pressed to guess the latter – unless it was both. In any case, perhaps the size issue was to her advantage as well.

Rose wriggled her wrists slowly, measuring the amount of leeway the shackles gave her. They were, indeed, not as tight as they could have been. Her hands weren't going to pass through them easily, but even if this was the smallest size they had been able to produce, it likely wasn't made for children. Rose's wrists were thin, and she imagined her hands were smaller than any adult troll's. If she worked at it, freeing them didn't seem to be beyond the realm of the possible. That was the most hopeful thought she had had in hours.

Coaxing her right hand through the manacle was slow and frustrating as well as painful, rubbing her skin raw, edging her hand down a fraction of an inch at a time only to have to stop again, repositioning, twisting and pulling. The angle was awkward as she couldn't use the other hand to help, but at least gravity was on her side. She made progress, slowly but surely, silently cursing the fact that she had thumbs.

Rose was so focused on the task that she was unable to tell how much time passed, but eventually her right arm dropped to her side, hand sore and red and bleeding slightly from the first thumb joint. Her sigh of relief was mixed with exhaustion and a hiss of pain. She quickly pulled her left hand down, dragging the empty right cuff through the ring, and got her bare feet properly on the floor. That in itself felt wonderful, and she wasted a few seconds flexing her feet and rubbing her arms and hands, feeling a tingle as circulation started to go back to normal. She ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes, breathing deeply, mouth curling into a small smile. She had accomplished something.

Now all she had to do was to get away from here alive. That was a sobering thought. She had no time to relax just yet.

Rose let the left cuff stay on her wrist for now and studied the room she was in more closely. It was windowless, lit by a few luminescent bulbs in the ceiling, though they were barely bright enough to deserve to be called lightbulbs. The light was good enough to see by, but much dimmer than the sort of indoor illumination Rose was used to. She still couldn't find any cameras, even at a more thorough scrutiny of walls and ceiling, and seeing as no one had come along to stop her from freeing herself, a reasonable conclusion was that there weren't any. Another relief. She was being underestimated.

In fact, the room was quite bare. There was the chair the Marquise had been using, but no other furniture. Several more rings like the one she had been cuffed to were attached to one of the walls, and on closer inspection, that wall was soiled with what looked like dried patches of variously colored paint. Brown, yellow, green, blue. Rose knew enough about troll biology to recognize blood, and it wasn't hard to guess what this room was generally used for. Charming. At the opposite wall was a set of double doors apparently for a closet or a cupboard, and on the long side was the door leading to the midship corridor she had arrived through.

She touched the latter door first, but it was locked, naturally. Even if they did trust the shackles to hold her, locking the door was only sensible. However, Rose knew enough about locks after years of proving herself in passive-aggressive warfare against her mother to be fairly certain that it was a simple cylinder lock. With the right tools, she'd be able to open it fairly quickly.

However, she would need more than lockpicks if she was going to have any chance at a successful escape. She needed weapons. Running wasn't going to be an option as long as the ship was out at sea, which meant she was going to have to wait it out, at least until they touched land. Assuming she didn't manage to turn herself completely invisible, she would probably have to fight at some point – and although the loose cuff hanging from her left hand would be a workable brass knuckle if it had to, a strife abstratus she was familiar with would be much more efficient. She hoped fervently that she'd be able to avoid the Marquise, and that no one else aboard had mind control abilities. The thought threatened to bring panic, and she forced it away. One thing at a time. Lockpicks and weapons.

The cupboard would be the prudent place to start looking for something usable. Rose quickly slid the double doors aside, only to be momentarily taken aback by the contents.

They were... Not surprising. Rose swallowed, annoyed by her own reaction. There was no reason to be alarmed by this after everything else. In fact, it was entirely expected and indeed, exactly what she needed. She was absconding. She was not going to be on the receiving end.

Rose made herself dispassionately rummage through the collection of shackles, whips, knives, hooks, tongs and an assortment of other instruments, thrown messily together like an unusually morbid and seldom cleaned kitchen cabinet. On some level, it was fascinating. Some of the items were hard to discern the exact purpose of – more than a few seemed to be battery powered, perhaps administering heat or electricity – but none looked particularly pleasant. On the bottom shelf was a small aquarium, filled with living leech-like creatures of various colors, entwining each other like tentacles. Rose found herself staring at them for a couple of seconds before forcibly looking away. She didn't _want_ to look. She wouldn't have wanted to see this at all, if she had any choice in the matter. The intent of this entire inventory was abundantly clear and entirely sinister. Regardless, it was also useful for Rose's purposes.

She picked a couple of promising barbed needles. They'd be useless for knitting, of course, but the tips were razor-sharp and perfect for weapons, even if they weren't meant to be used on active opponents. The barbs would make them harder to pull out than to stick into an enemy, but Rose didn't actually care. She also found a small, sharp hook – presumably meant for more unpleasant purposes, but perfectly serviceable as a lockpick.

Having thus equipped herself, she decided to take the opportunity to get rid of the shackles completely. Having the cuffs dangling from her left wrist would be nothing but a distraction she couldn't afford, and she did seem to have some momentary breathing space. Though who knew for how long? She gritted her teeth and tried to coax the cuff over her left hand as quickly as possibly now that she knew it was doable, glancing repeatedly at the door. At least having both hands available where she could see them made the second cuff somewhat easier than the first to remove.

When it finally slipped over her hand, trailing a piece of skin that she had managed to tear off the side, Rose decided she could breathe normally again. She sucked at the bleeding spot and put the cuffs neatly back in the ring, just as they had been except without her wrists in them. It seemed a suitably sarcastic gesture to leave them like that.

The lock was as easily picked as expected, and cracking the door open didn't reveal any trolls in sight. A phrase that might be misleading, however, as the corridor was almost entirely lightless – both ends lost themselves in blackness. Rose was going to be at a rather sizable disadvantage if the trolls were better fitted with night vision than she was.

She looked back. She did have the option to stay in this room. It would be practical in the sense that there would be no risk of her being discovered and recaptured before time, losing any chance of escape. Staying would be relatively safe for the moment, and she would be immediately notified when they had reached land. Finding another hiding place would be risky. On the other hand, if she stayed, Mindfang would know exactly where she was. It was quite likely that Mindfang herself would come to escort her, and even if not, even if she managed to ambush the trolls coming to get her, any possibility of escaping unnoticed would be lost. The more ruckus she caused, the more likely it would be that Mindfang would get into her head again. No, her best chance would be to find a different place to conceal herself, and as soon as land was close enough, jump ship. After that, she could determine what to do next.

Rose gripped the barbed needles tight, as ready for strife as she'd ever be. She closed the door carefully behind her before darting off.

As far as she could recall from when she was brought down here, she was on the second floor below the top deck – whether that was above or below the waterline, she wasn't sure. The corridor was stretching the length of the ship, connecting to rooms on both sides. The narrow staircase she had descended from earlier was at the bow end, which was the direction she decided to proceed in.

The ship rolled softly around her, combining with the faint vibrations from the engine into a sensation that was simultaneously relaxing and unnerving, familiar and alien. Her ears told her more than her eyes in the darkness. There were heavy footsteps and harsh voices – barely heard and impossible to make out – somewhere above her head, but none on her own level. The ship had been too large for this to be the lowest deck, but perhaps it was nonetheless a cargo hold of some kind. Rose risked trying to pull one of the doors open, but it was locked, and she didn't feel it was wise to risk discovery by staying in the corridor to pick it, especially not knowing what was on the other side. Perhaps if she found no better option.

She wished she knew something at all about how this ship worked or how it was constructed, anything that could help her predict where the crew was likely to be and what places could be presumed to be empty for a length of time. Reason told her that the corridor was certainly the worst possible place to stay, though, so she kept moving, listening to the sounds of the ship and the crew and her own heartbeat.

The staircase was almost authentically narrow and steep, like on the kind of historical vessel this masqueraded to be. It split into both directions, up and down. Rose would have wanted to go up, closer to the sky and the sea, but considering the fact that she could hear the crew moving about upstairs, down would unarguably be safer – although a glance downwards revealed nothing but a tenebrous black hole.

As her ears indicated it was empty, she proceeded to descend, slowly and carefully. Her own feet were lost in the darkness, and she couldn't afford to stumble and risk making noise. However, she was no more than approximately two thirds of the way down when the sound of a door opening was heard from below, followed by footsteps quickly approaching the stairs. She stopped in her tracks, blood freezing in her veins.

The person below was moving fast, and Rose only had a split second to consider turning to abscond back up upstairs. But that would mean stumbling blindly, exposing her back – and then the split second was over, and the troll was there, stopping with an inarticulate sound of surprise on the stairs right below Rose. The staircase was too narrow for them to pass each other easily, but Rose hadn't made a sound, and the fact that the troll had stopped before running into her meant troll eyes were indeed less useless than human ones in this darkness.

Rose couldn't see the troll at all, but she could smell him – a dark, musky smell – and for a single terrifying second she thought this was the end. She was blind here, and all the troll had to do would be to cry out, to alert the rest of the crew of her escape, and she wouldn't have a chance. The barbed needles were ready in her hands, but she'd be fighting blind, her only advantages higher ground and desperation.

The troll sealed his fate by turning on a flashlight. Perhaps even troll eyes couldn't see her clearly in this lack of light; perhaps he needed to confirm who and what was silently blocking his way; perhaps he couldn't quite believe his night vision. The flashlight was dim, but it was enough, and Rose seized the chance with grim efficiency. She didn't give the troll time to defend himself or make a sound before her needles were sunk deep into his eyes, piercing the brain with a sickening slurp. The unspeakable part of her mind rejoiced.

Rose acted without thinking. The body started to fall, but two quick steps down and she was beside it, pushing it against the wall, supporting it enough to prevent it from hitting the ground with a thud. Slowly walking down the stairs while holding the body between herself and the wall, using the opposite wall of the narrow staircase for leverage, she managed to get it prone on the stairs without any loud noises. The head just barely touched the lowest point of the stairs. Taking the flashlight from the corpse's clenched fingers, Rose confirmed that there were no other trolls in sight. So far so good.

The stairs opened up on this floor to a midsized, rather cluttered room. There were piles of various gizmos, including a mountain of dice in one corner. Close to the stairs were a tower of buckets stacked on top of each other. But most prominently, there were several pieces of old furniture – perhaps mechanical devices. No, actually, several of them appeared organic; undulating sacks of unknown purpose, stretching from floor to ceiling, pulsating softly as if alive. Some of these had tentacle-like tendrils reaching out and disappearing into the hull.

Rose took it in in a second, filing it away for later consideration. She knew she couldn't leave the corpse on the stairs where anyone passing this way would see it. She wouldn't be able to lift it, but at least she could hide it behind something in this room, making it less obvious. Dragging it down the stairs would make too much noise, so she went back up to the feet, pulling them down to roll the body up into a ball before pushing it over and lowering it to the floor. After that there was no helping it, so she dragged it by the feet across the room and in behind the largest of the bulging organic appliances. The space was narrow, but that was advantageous. The body could be bundled up and wouldn't be readily visible unless someone actively looked behind the contraption. Good enough.

Only when the corpse was situated in a sitting position, curled up in the narrow space between the organic _thing_ and the hull, did Rose start to relax. She sagged down too, next to the dead body in the limited space, arms around her knees. She was breathing slowly and deliberately, fists clenching and unclenching. The vibrations from the engine were stronger here, reverberating in her tense muscles, almost drowning out the beating of her heart. She rested her head on her knees, relaxing to the alien sound, trying to get her adrenaline back to bearable levels.

The flashlight was a danger at the moment, so she flicked it off. If another troll came down here, or through that door opposite the staircase, they'd see the light immediately, and then her, fresh murder victim and all. Smelling like roses, as it were.

It started to dawn on her exactly what she had just done, and what horrified her the most was that it didn't horrify her. She had just killed a person. Not a human being, to be sure, but a person nonetheless. That should be upsetting. It was something completely different than killing imps and game constructs, and although it had been self defense, she should probably feel _something_. But all she got was relief that she had gotten out of the pinch and fear that she might not make it next time.

Though really, why should she be afraid? Why did she have to hide in the first place? She was armed and dangerous, not a helpless little child. She was strong, manifestly stronger than this dead troll, and in fact, she was stronger than everyone. She hadn't even begun to tap into the power that she had at her command. She could, in fact, rise and go up these stairs with no fear. She could kill them all. Why should she hide, when—

Her head jerked up. Those thoughts weren't hers, and she had barely even noticed. She swallowed and took a deep, shaky breath of dark air. _Damn it all._ This was going splendidly. She had just killed a person, and it was all alright because the horrorterrors said so.

She hesitated only for a heartbeat before flicking the flashlight back on. She couldn't stay here. The corpse's head was tilted against its knees, facing Rose with her needles still buried deep in its eyes, almost as if it was looking at her through bleeding eye sockets.

 _I don't need any sass from you,_ Rose thought at it sharply, knowing better than to talk aloud at the inanimate, especially when she was trying to be stealthy. It really did look smug, though. Bastard.

Rose pulled the barbed needles from the head of the man she had killed, perhaps more angrily than she needed to. Bright green liquid, lumpy with brain substance and pieces of eyeball splattered her gray dress and added a new pattern to the green symbol already decorating the corpse's shirt. She wiped the needles on the same shirt and got back on her feet. This was a hiding place, and possibly not even a bad one, but no. The horrorterrors were getting to her. She didn't want to give them fodder by staying with the eyeless corpse. Besides, it might be better to be elsewhere anyway in case someone came looking for him.

The door opposite from the staircase took her to a corridor similar to the one on the deck above, though the doors were closer together, indicating smaller rooms. It was dark, but using the flashlight she had no trouble navigating it. The corridor was empty at the moment, but Rose could hear low voices from behind at least one of the doors. She hurried past it and proceeded to the other end of the corridor, close to the stern of the ship. The vibrations from the engine were at their strongest yet, and she suspected that the door at the very end would lead to the engine room.

At that moment the handle of one of the doors clicked. Rose immediately flicked the flashlight off at the sound, but a heartbeat later there was a dim beam of light spilling out of that door, followed by a loud voice telling someone else to hurry up.

Rose held her breath. She had no cover. If the trolls as much as glanced her way they would see her, and that was a fact. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, or so the saying went, but there was only one door close enough to retreat to in time.

The door to the engine room was unlocked, and much less heavy than she expected. She pushed it open and got herself inside, closing it behind her in one swift movement. Pressing her back against the door, steeling herself for whatever would be there, she found to her surprise that although the very atmosphere was alive with the engine vibrations, this place was pitch black, as void of light that it might even make a troll sightless. Whatever that might mean, she took it as good news for the moment. Perhaps the engine was mostly automatic.

Rose kept herself still against the door for a while, peering into the darkness and listening for any sound other than the vibrating engines. She could vaguely hear at least two trolls talking in the corridor behind her, voices slowly fading away. The room in front of her, on the other hand, appeared to be as lifeless as it was dark.

No. Wait. There was something.

Rose closed her eyes – they were useless in any case – and listened. The vibrations covered everything, a beat almost like a racing heart, a rhythm even her own couldn't keep up with. Beyond that, she could hear her own breaths, steady but a little too quick, only hitching a little bit when she found the other sound she thought she had heard. Someone else breathing. Slow, even, rhythmically attached to the engine vibrations, but clearly living breaths, and not just a small animal either. There was someone else with her in the darkness.

Yet she wasn't called out. She could only assume she hadn't been noticed, which could mean either that the troll – she assumed it had to be a troll – was asleep, or just as blind as her and less attentive. Judging by the slow breaths, she would hazard to guess asleep, but why would someone be asleep in the engine room? For that matter, why would the engine room be pitch black, when even trolls clearly needed _some_ light to see? Whoever was here right now clearly wasn't working, but that didn't mean it wasn't an enemy.

Rose hesitated. She could find the sleeper and kill him or her now. That would be the most efficient way of dealing with the situation. It was an enemy, and she had the advantage of being awake and alert – killing it would deal with the problem before it became dangerous. She clenched the needles again, ready to use them.

But no. Rose shook her head, a physical reminder that this wasn't like her. Her state of mind being what it was, she had to discard any bloodthirsty impulses as suspicious and possibly not originating from herself. It was alright. She was in charge.

As a matter of fact, if she could find something to hide behind for the eventuality of the door being opened or the room otherwise illuminated, she could hide here. Rationally, if she managed to hide in the same room as someone else without being discovered, Mindfang would have that much less reason to suspect that she was here than if she left a trail of murder around her. There was such a thing as being discreet.

_She had already killed one man. Perhaps it was too late for that._

Rose decided to ignore that thought and go with discretion for now, keeping her needles ready just in case. She felt her way along the wall to the nearest corner, careful not to disturb anything or anyone potentially on the floor, although the breathing she could hear seemed to come from somewhere in front of the door, not to the side. As she reached the corner, though, her hand touched something soft and damp on the wall. Her first thought was mold, her second wet cloth, and then she remembered the tentacle-like tendrils on the organic devices in the room on the oppose end on the ship. She touched it again, and sure enough, it was long and stringy, coming from somewhere over to her left and disappearing behind the wall panes to her right.

The sleeper stirred. Rose only noticed the shift in the rhythm when there was a gasp, followed by a second of no sound but the engines, both she and the stranger holding their breaths.

The voice that followed was young, male and carried a nervous lisp.

"Who are you? Who thent you here?"


	10. Jade

Jade was rudely awoken by a kick in the guts. She yelped, and she would have keeled over if her hands hadn't been stuck to something above her head and _ow_ , just pulling at them made her realize her arms hurt even more than her guts did. It was like being pinched by a thousand needles at once and no wonder if they were stuck like that. For a moment she had absolutely no idea what was going on. She coughed, wondering about the weird coppery tang in her mouth, and opened her eyes only to realize they were crusted with dried tears, her left eye aching and refusing to open all the way. Her head felt like it was full of fog. She tried frantically to figure out if she had been asleep (but she couldn't remember dreaming, and who'd ever heard of sleeping without dreaming?) and why Bec hadn't helped her out of the uncomfortable position (because _fuck_ that hurt) and who the hell could be kicking her, and... _Oh_.

"Wwake up, alien."

Dualscar's face looking down on her made it all come back like another kick in the guts, more painful than the last. "My name is _Jade_ ," she protested automatically, trying to blink her eyes clear, though he remained blurry at the edges to her near-sighted eyes. Oh god, she had been crying. She silently vowed not to do that again. She would never get out of this alive if she didn't keep herself together. "And I'm awake," she said. "You didn't have to _kick_ me!"

"No," he said. He was towering above her, now wearing a long glossy black coat, its hood pulled down so she could see the frown on his face. The coat didn't really make sense, because it wasn't any colder than it had been, and although it sort of looked like a raincoat, it certainly didn't feel like it was going to rain. "Of course I didn't havve to. There are feww fins I _havve_ to do." He kicked her again, square in the solar plexus this time. Jade retched, and there was a painful moment when she was unable to do anything but struggle for breath. Dualscar waited her out.

"You're horrible," she finally managed, wheezing between clenched teeth. "I haven't even done anything to you." How long she had been asleep, anyway? It didn't feel like it had been very long – to be sure, she didn't want to sleep any more, but that might be just because she was hurting all over. Her chest and guts ached where she had been kicked, her legs and back ached from half sitting in a weird position, and neither of those were really comparable to the red-hot needles her arms had turned into. And she couldn't feel her hands at all. That was bad.

Dualscar casually leaned against the railing next to her, facing the sea. "Wwell, you and your wwhimpering alien airbreathin' apparatus is obvviously wworse than useless at insults, so stop tryin'."

Jade made a hissing sound. He made her so angry. "Why should I, fuckass!? I should go all Karkat on you, you nooksucking—" She caught herself and bit her lip, realizing that being riled up probably wasn't going to help her with the plan here. The plan being _don't get killed_.

"Nooksuckin' wwhat?"

"Nevermind, I'm sorry," she said quickly. She grimaced. "Look. I don't understand! What's the point of treating me like this?"

"Here's another thing I don't havve to do. Explain myself to you."

"Fine," Jade said, very slowly. "Then don't." He was so infuriating. She looked around and found that the deck – which was now completely empty of life except for the two of them – seemed to be a little bit brighter than it had been, and the sky a shade or two lighter. Perhaps it was almost dawn. Daylight would be nice, she supposed, if anything could be called nice in this situation. She stumbled to her feet with a groan, gasping as the compressed blood flow adjusted in most of her body, making it tingle as well as ache. Her hands still felt nothing at all, though, and standing, she noticed that they had taken on a sickly blue-ish color above the tape. God, that was bad. "I can't feel my hands," she said out loud, voicing the dread that was gathering in her throat.

"That's because your pathetic alien tissue is soft as mucus," Dualscar informed her. "I can't figure out if all of your species are this delicate, or just the ones of your lowwly blood."

"What, you're saying trolls don't get ischemia?"

His blank stare told her that he didn't even understand the word.

"What do you even know of my blood?"

Dualscar waved a finger at her arm, and Jade only now noticed that there were several small cuts from the wrist and down to her elbow, smeared with half-dried blood. With her arms hurting like this anyway, she hadn't even noticed the sting. It must have happened when she was asleep, and oh god, it could have been so much worse and that's why you're not supposed to sleep when there are enemies around. Even Bec would have barked at her for that.

"Apparently," Dualscar said, "your blood only looks blue from the surface, and your sign is just blue for showw. I havve to say, it wwas disappointin'."

"Whatever! All humans have red blood, what's the big deal anyway?" Jade snapped.

"Yeah, not surprised. Your species becomes more and more pathetic the more I find out."

Jade tried to pull at the bonds, but it made no difference whatsoever. "Look, you'll have to cut this loose, or my hands are going to go completely dead!"

Dualscar's mouth split into a grin, though Jade wasn't even sure it was a smile at all and not just a grimace full of razorblade teeth. "Wwhy should I care?"

"Hey, you said yourself that you didn't want me to break, didn't you?" Jade kept pulling, which mostly amounted to shaking her shoulders. "Losing my _hands_ counts as breaking if anything does! Come on, it's not like I'm a threat to you! I promise I'll behave. Please!"

"No, seriously, _wwhy_ should I care? Givve me a reason."

Jade went still. "What do you mean?"

"I'll spell it out for your little red airfilled think pan – I'm not gonna givve you to the court."

"Okay." Jade's good eye blinked, then narrowed. She wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. "Why not?"

"Wwhy wwould my reasonin' matter to you?"

Jade seethed. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because I'm interested in knowing what the hell's going to happen to me!"

"I havve no doubts that you are." He turned and looked down at her. "But the question at the center of the maelstrom of that issue is – can you be of use to me?"

Jade groaned and looked from him to her senseless hands. "If I say yes, are you going to take this tape off? Because hands are kind of _important_ , and I don't think I'm going to be of much use to anyone without them, okay? I don't care if you want to give me away as a present to your grubfucking empress or keep—"

She barely noticed Dualscar's arm swinging before his hand connected to the side of her face with a knuckled backhanded something between a slap and a punch. It was somewhat eased by the fact that he was wearing gloves, but still stinging hard enough on her already bruised face to make her head ring and her eyes blur even more. "You wwill not speak of her in that wway," he said over snarling fangs, practically growling the words, and he really did tower over her, even now that she was standing up. He was a rather large man, tall and muscular in ways the troll kids just hadn't been, and Eridan or not, he could totally crush her head between his hands right now if he wanted to. Jade bit her lip. She had totally said the wrong thing.

"Sorry," she tried. "The empress?"

"Her Imperious Condescension."

"That's..." Jade didn't feel like laughing, and she had actually heard the title before, but it felt like some kind of a joke. "That's a very – very strange title." She would have said 'silly', but now was not the time.

Dualscar seemed to take it as an insult anyway. He growled again, and Jade found herself shrinking back against the railing, half expecting him to hit her again, wishing she hadn't said anything at all. "I didn't mean any disrespect," she mumbled, heart beating furiously and the bloodflow sending new spikes of pain through her arms. As he didn't move after all, she took a deep, shaky breath to steady herself, placing her eyes on him and pointedly not on her hands. "I wasn't thinking," she clarified. "The empress – I mean, her _Imperious Condescension_ – is Feferi's Ancestor, isn't she? I mean, she has to be. And Feferi was really nice. So actually I think it would be nice – I mean, an honor – to meet the empress if you did take me to court."

Dualscar snorted without replying and leaned his back against the railing, elbows jutting out over the side. The sky was definitely growing brighter around them, the moons gone below the horizon, but the sky pale enough that it wasn't very dark. There was a hint of color on the horizon on the other side of the ship – which was the port side, which in turn meant that if this planet was like Earth, they were going south.

"What is she like?" Jade continued her trail of thought. She wasn't going to think about Earth. "Do you like her? I mean, Eridan and Feferi was—" Jade stopped. She was almost certain that Dualscar had flinched at that. "What's the matter?" she asked without thinking, though it went completely ignored. Actually, when she had told Dualscar about Eridan and Feferi earlier, he had reacted pretty strangely, too. Like he was happy to hear it, but not really happy that she knew about it – and hadn't he said something about not doing well with red romance?

"Oh no." Something was definitely going on here, and Jade had a feeling she could guess what it was. Dualscar really _was_ like Eridan. "You like her but she doesn't like you back? And that's why you don't want me to see her?"

Dualscar snorted again, louder. "That's wwitch slander. Alien wwitch slander from a miserable little hornless redblooded airbreather, and wwho wwould listen to your wword against mine?"

"I didn't mean to slander you! I was just..." Jade grimaced. "I was just asking because you're really very much like Eridan, and it only makes sense?"

"You're not doin' a good job of convvincin' me not to let you be sun fodder."

"Sun fodder?" It occurred to Jade that Dualscar seemed to be waiting for something, the way he was casually standing there and just talking to her, and the sun was indeed about to rise. On the other side of the ship, the colors were growing brighter at the horizon. Not just purple and pink like on Earth, but a full rainbow spectrum in the sky, and the fact that it was beautiful didn't change how it suddenly made Jade's guts fill with horror. She was sure someone had mentioned to her that Alternia's sun was blistering and dangerous, but she had completely forgotten. _Shit._ She shook her head violently, ignoring the ringing in her ears, and showed her teeth in a snarl of her own. It was that or crying again. "You're _not_ going to kill me!" she said. "Like _hell_ you will! I'll-I'll come back and haunt you! I'm a witch, I can do that!"

"I'm not gonna lift a finger. I'm just wwatchin' to see wwhat happens." Dualscar smirked at her display before pulling the hood up over his head, closing it around his horns, and lowering a semi-transparent veil that almost completely blocked his face from view. Was that protection? From the sun?

"Gaah!" Jade exclaimed, frustrated and more than a little bit terrified. "This is stupid! You want useful? Of course I'm useful! I'm the only one of my kind on the planet, aren't I? Doesn't that mean your government is going to want to know about my world? I mean, not just the empress, but _someone_ is going to be interested, right?" She was grasping for straws and she knew it, but that was the first thing she could think of that made sense in her head.

The troll laughed at her, a bubbling sound from within the hood. "I can't believve you," he said. "You're seriously begging me to hand you ovver to the official channels. You think that wwould savve your pathetic life? Trust me wwhen say you wwould rather burn. I'm doin' you a fuckin' favvor here."

Jade fumed. It definitely wasn't what she would call a favor, and she was about to say so when Dualscar continued.

"For your information," he said, "You're sevverly ovverestimatin' your owwn uniqueness. Did you really expect no one else of your landin' to havve gained troll attention? That's so naivve it's almost pitiable."

"What—" Jade felt her chest tightening. "Are you saying there are more humans here?"

"Right noww I knoww of three includin' you. One of wwhich is already in official custody, so they're goin' to havve all the information they need on your species. You're a mere superflounderus extra."

Jade's mouth opened and then closed again soundlessly. It felt like her entire insides were hollow and suddenly filled with snow and frozen frogs. He was talking about her friends. There couldn't be anyone else. Her friends were here. But they couldn't – couldn't _possibly_ – be worse off than she was, could they? 'Official custody' meant being alive, right? Alive, but a prisoner somewhere. Her good eye shut tight. It wasn't as if she didn't trust her friends to take care of themselves, but if something happened to them now, after everything they've been through... "Who?" she finally managed, looking up again, mouthy dry.

"Howw wwould I knoww? I just got the brief confidential report. Blunt teeth, red blood, calls itself 'human'. Meanin' you're reedundant."

"And the third one? You said three."

"Spinneret got one. Knowwing her, she's either killin' it in some ovverly elaborate wway for spyin' on her, or keepin' it as a trophy slavve to showw the wworld howw _special_ she is. She's famously attracted to wweird treasure."

Jade didn't think her heart could sink any lower, but it did. She'd felt terrifyingly helpless for the entire conversation, but this just brought it all down on her. "Those are my friends, fuckass," she said quietly, somewhere between a whisper and a growl, blinking furiously to get rid of the tears that threatened to overwhelm her again. She wasn't going to cry, not now, that would be the most pathetic thing she could do. There were four of them, one was unknown, might be okay. And Jade herself wasn't going to die either. The entire plan had been her idea. It was her fault that it failed. She was going to get out of this and fix things.

The colors over the horizon had spread over half the sky by now, and the line where the sky met the sea was starting to glow brightly. Jade instinctively averted her eyes, looking at Dualscar instead, face set into a clenched-teeth grimace of about equal parts terror, rage and determination.

"Yeah, don't look at it," Dualscar advised. "It'll make you blind, but it wwon't kill you any faster."

"Good," she snarled.

"Don't wworry, wwith the wwretched thin skin you got on you, I don't think it'll take long." He sounded half amused behind the mask. Half amused and half annoyed, for some reason.

At that moment the sun rose above the horizon and yes, Jade was no stranger to tropical sunshine, but for a sun that had only just barely showed itself, that was _hot_. She turned her back on it, facing the ocean on her side of the ship. "I'm not dead yet," she said. "If I give you a good enough reason why I'd be useful to you alive, you'll let me live?"

"I'm startin' to think you're too wwretched to live, space wwitch or not. But go ahead and tell me, wwhy should I keep you?"

Jade drew a deep breath, and then another. She tried and failed to will her fingers to move. Her body was still aching, and the Alternian sunshine on her back already felt like sitting too close to a campfire. She wished fervently that John could have been there with his friendly jokes, or Dave with his deadpan irony, or especially Rose with her way of figuring things out and always knowing what to do. But she had only herself, and if she was going to fix things, this was where she had to start.

"Spinneret is your hatelover – your kismesis, right?" she asked.

"Yes, so?"

"One thing I could do for you," she said. "I could help you get back at her."


	11. John

TG: 3GB3RT  
EB: .....  
EB: terezi?  
TG: Y3S 1TS M3!  
EB: wow, that's unexpected!  
EB: what are you doing on dave's account?  
EB: where's dave?  
TG: H3S 4ROUND  
TG: 1M BORROW1NG H1S COMMUN1C4T1ONS D3V1C3  
EB: did dave manage to bring a computer here?  
EB: tell him that's so unfair.  
EB: i lost my stuff, so i'm borrowing a computer right now.  
EB: i guess you lost yours too if you're borrowing his?  
TG: Y3S T3LL M3 4BOUT 1T  
TG: WH3R3 4R3 YOU?  
EB: well, i'm not really sure exactly where i am. somewhere on alternia!  
EB: but you're not gonna believe who i'm with!  
TG: WHO 4R3 YOU W1TH?  
TG: 1S TH1S 4 R1DDL3?  
EB: it's the ultimate riddle.  
EB: can you tell me something first?  
EB: this is your planet, right? does anything about it strike you as weird?  
TG: W31RD?  
EB: like sort of... historical?  
TG: ..........  
TG: WH4T 4R3 YOU TRY1NG TO S4Y?  
EB: i'm trying to say that there are historical people and ancestors walking around.  
EB: try looking vriska's ancestor up.  
EB: you should get a kick out of it.  
TG: 1 S33  
TG: 1 H4V3 1ND33D NOT1C3D SOM3TH1NG OFF  
TG: BUT TH3R3 S33MS TO B3 MOR3 TO TH1S TH4N 1 3XP3CT3D  
EB: no kidding!  
EB: i think we're in your past.  
EB: look out for your own ancestral doppelganger!  
TG: SO YOUR3 S4Y1NG TH4T YOUR3 W1TH SOM3 OF TH3S3 4NC3STR4L DOPP3LG4NG3RS  
EB: yep!  
EB: karkat and kanaya. i mean, their ancestors. I don't know if they themselves are here at all...  
EB: but i guess if you are maybe they are too?  
EB: man, i would have been so confused if vriska hadn't told me about ancestors before.  
EB: you look basically identical.  
EB: troll ancestry sure is weird!  
TG: TH1S 1S 1NTR1GU1NG  
TG: W3 SHOULD M33T 4ND D1SCUSS TH1S 1N P3RSON  
TG: WHO 3LS3 1S H3R3?  
EB: i don't know.  
EB: jade and rose aren't responding. i'm kinda worried.  
EB: and on a completely different subject, could i speak to dave?  
EB: what's he doing anyway?  
TG: SL33P1NG  
TG: 1 DONT W4NT TO W4K3 H1M >:]  
EB: ok, i guess.  
EB: i've been sleeping too.  
EB: but...  
EB: i'd still like to talk to him when he wakes up.  
TG: OF COURS3 3GB3RT  
TG: 4S SOON 4S YOU G3T H3R3 W3LL G3T TH3 P4RTY GO1NG  
TG: OR M4YB3 W3LL G3T TO YOU  
TG: GO 4SK YOUR 4NC3STR4L FR13NDS WH3R3 YOU 4R3 SO W3 C4N F1ND 34CH OTH3R  
EB: ok.  
EB: hey terezi?  
EB: why do you keep using dave's account?  
EB: it's weird to see you type in dave red!  
TG: BUT 1T 1S 4 V3RY D3L1C1OUS SH4D3 OF R3D  
TG: 1S TH1S B3TT3R?  
EB: ...  
EB: whatever, now you're just trolling me.  
EB: which is okay since you're a troll and all, but dave is going to give you hell for messing with his font colors.  
EB: and i'd still like you to use your own account!  
TG: WHY?  
EB: because why not?  
TG: F1N3

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB] \--

EB: ...  
EB: ......  
EB: hello?

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] \--

GC: TH3R3. H4PPY, 3GB3RT?  
EB: much better.  
EB: huh.  
GC: WH4T?  
EB: that's the third time you called me egbert.  
EB: are you trying to pull my tail?  
GC: >:?  
GC: DO YOU H4V3 4 T41L?  
EB: no, but don't distract me!  
EB: it's important.  
EB: why do you call me egbert?  
GC: WHY SHOULDNT 1?  
GC: 1SNT 1T YOUR N4M3?  
EB: it's my surname.  
EB: you always used my first name before.  
GC: Y3S. SO?  
EB: so why change now?  
EB: it's suspicious, is all i'm saying!  
EB: and now i'm waiting for you to prove me wrong by using my name. come on.  
GC: ...  
GC: V3RY GOOD 3GB3RT  
GC: YOUR3 L3SS GULL1BL3 TH4N 1 G4V3 YOU CR3D1T FOR  
EB: wow.  
EB: i bet you created that account just now.  
EB: you're terezi's ancestor, aren't you?  
GC: 4ND YOUR3 4NOTHER HORNL3SS R3DBLOOD3D 4L13N WHO CL41MS TO H4V3 4RR1V3D ON 4LT3RN14 BY 4CC1D3NT  
EB: pretty much, yeah.  
EB: we were trying to get back to earth, not to alternia, and definitely not to alternia in the past.  
EB: it's very confusing.  
GC: SO 1T 1S  
GC: D4V3 L13D 4BOUT NOT H4V1NG 4NY 4LL13S ON TH1S WORLD  
GC: BUT NOW 1 WOND3R WH4T H3 M1GHT H4V3 B33N T3LL1NG TH3 TRUTH 4BOUT  
GC: I WOULD ST1LL L1K3 TO T4LK TO YOU 1N P3RSON  
EB: yeah, i would like that too!  
EB: but there are people over here telling me not to trust you and i kind of think they have a point, especially considering that terezi already got me killed once and she was technically a friend.  
EB: so it's a bit complicated.  
EB: i'd feel a lot better about it if you woke up dave and let me speak to him!  
EB: he IS there, isn't he?  
GC: Y3S  
EB: so can i talk to him?  
GC: NO  
EB: why not?  
EB: if he gets grouchy he can blame me.  
GC: W3LL  
GC: H3S 1ND1SPOS3D  
EB: what does that even mean?  
EB: you're starting to creep me out.  
EB: please tell me he's ok.  
GC: H3S 4L1V3  
EB: right.  
EB: that was not as reassuring as it could have been.  
GC: DO3S 1T M4TT3R TO YOU?  
EB: of course it does!  
EB: he's my best bro!  
GC: GOOD  
GC: TH3N TH3 M4TT3R 1S S1MPL3  
GC: 1T DO3SNT M4K3 4NY D1FF3R3NC3 1F YOU TRUST M3 OR NOT  
GC: 1 W4NT TO F1ND TH3 TRUTH  
GC: YOU W4NT TO F1ND YOUR HUM4N BROP4L  
GC: 1 SUGG3ST 4 M33T1NG 4T TH1S LOC4T1ON

gallowsCalibrator [GC] sent ectoBiologist [EB] the file "TO3GB3RT.RAR"

GC: 1 1NCLUD3D TWO M4PS 4ND GLOB4L COORD1N4T3S 1N C4S3 YOUR3 4S LOST 4S YOU S4Y  
EB: ......  
EB: whoa deja vu.  
GC: 1M W41T1NG FOR YOU  
GC: SO 1S D4V3  
EB: ok.  
EB: i'll follow your map.  
EB: but i don't know how long it will take!  
GC: 1F YOU D1SCLOS3 YOUR OWN LOC4T1ON 1 C4N 4RR4NG3 FOR S4F3 TR4NSPORT4T1ON  
EB: no...  
EB: i think i'd better not.  
GC: NO?  
GC: 1 4DV1C3 YOU TO HURRY  
GC: OR 1 C4NT GU4R4NT33 TH4T D4V3 W1LL ST1LL B3 4L1V3 WH3N YOU 4RR1V3  
EB: ...why?  
EB: what are you doing to him???  
GC: >:]  
GC: 4ND DONT B3 S33N  
GC: 1T WONT DO 4NY GOOD FOR 4NYON3 1F YOUR3 CULL3D OR C4PTUR3D ON TH3 W4Y  
EB: i know!  
GC: M3SS4G3 M3 4G41N BY TH1S H4NDL3 WH3N YOUR3 CLOS3

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB] \--

 

John removed his fingers from the spongy keyboard and dropped his hands on the desk, staring at the words on the screen. There was an icy snake nesting in his stomach. This was not a thing that should be happening! It could be a prank, he guessed. It would be a bad prank, but Terezi did have a habit of playing unfunny mindgames, didn't she? And then Dave would mock him for worrying, and John would be perfectly okay with that.

He wasn't okay at all with the alternative.

"I have to go," he said, turning on the chair to look up at the two trolls who had been looking over his shoulders being very loud about how he shouldn't trust the person on the other side of the screen ever since the Dolorosa had realized he was talking to a troll. The most annoying part about that was that they might be right.

The Signless Karkat looked at him and scratched his head around a little nubby horn. "Do you really?" he asked. "Because if you tell me you're about to waltz straight into the sharpened claws of a bloodthirsty stranger all alone in your freshly burned hide, I'm going to tell you you're _shithive maggots_. I'm sincerely hoping alien think pans aren't made out of grub sauce."

"Well, what else—"

"You do realize," the Dolorosa interrupted, "that there's a very high possibility that your friend is already dead? This person is clearly using his account for bait. Are you certain you want to take it?"

"He's not dead!" John's face scrunched into a grimace. That was stupid. Though it was very hard to pretend it was a joke when both trolls took it so seriously. "And if he's in trouble, I'm going to get him out of it. It's what friends do!" John jumped to his feet, much too quickly for his head to follow. He stumbled as the dizziness set in again and had to lean on Karkat's shoulder for support.

"Whoa there," Karkat said. "I get what you're saying, I really do, but we did _not_ save your life just so you can throw it away again the first opportunity you get. Did you listen to a word we said about what kind of nookstabbing hellhole of a planet this is?"

"So what? I know it's hellish, and I know you people kill and kill, but are you saying I should just abandon my friends to it because I happened to be lucky enough to be safe myself? That doesn't even make sense! Dave would never abandon me, and I'm not going to abandon him either!" John let got of Karkat and straightened himself. Looking from Karkat to the Dolorosa and back again, he told them, "I'm stronger than I look, okay?"

Karkat nodded in something that looked like approval. "Yeah," he said. "I'm not doubting that you are."

"However," the Dolorosa added, "You're still a child, not to mention an alien. We can't..."

"Yes, you can!" John said stubbornly. He turned back to the computer, leaning over the keyboard and trying to open the maps not-Terezi had sent. The Signless Karkat grabbed his arm and bodily dragged him away before he got that far.

"Look, John," he said. "I don't know if you've got computer viruses where you come from, but that file is probably shock full of homing beacons about to tell your troll friend on the other side exactly where we are, and for obvious reasons—" He held out his other hand to showcase the little scab on his finger where he had showed John his blood. "—we've been trying to avoid being noticed. Get it?"

John nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry. But..."

"But this is important to you," Karkat finished his sentence. "And there _is_ a chance that your friend is still alive. So of course you want to throw yourself out there, because you're a fucking redblooded fool." There was a barely-hidden smile behind his words, and suddenly John wasn't sure if he was being reprimanded or complimented.

"I think someone else is about to be a redblooded fool," the Dolorosa remarked, looking at the Signless Karkat with arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face.

"Yes!" Karkat said, turning sharply to her. "Look, I'm the most wretched bulgelicker that ever hatched out of a pod, but you're the one who told me that's not something to be ashamed of. Well, maybe it's time to not be ashamed, then."

The Dolorosa seemed to hesitate. "And you're sure about this?" she asked after a moment.

"I'm perigrees past where I would have joined society if I hadn't been a mutant. I'm old enough. And I was... It's scary, alright? But John coming here is like something up there is telling me flat out to get my ass out of the hive and go out there. Like I was meant to."

"We've talked about this before."

"Yes, and I'm sure as a slime drain this time."

John looked from Karkat to the Dolorosa and back again. He felt a bit left out of the conversation, but was Karkat saying that...? "You're going to help me?"

"Yes. That's the new plan. You can go ahead and cull me now, 'Rosa, but I'm going to do this."

The Dolorosa smiled, and something about her posture made John think she was about to say that she was so, so proud of her son. (She was totally his mom.) Instead, she nodded. "Very well."

Karkat gave her a relieved smile. "But first," he continued before John could comment or ask what exactly just happened, "I want breakfast. I'm fucking starving, and you could probably use some nourishment too, John. At least if you want to be of any use and not go around fainting like a sick wriggler."

There was some sense to that, but John hesitated. "Terezi said to hurry!" he protested.

"An hour more or less isn't gonna matter," Karkat said. "If we're going to be able to work together, we need to talk. Over _breakfast_."

Apparently there was no arguing with that, so John let himself be dragged away to the 'nourishment block', which was basically the kitchen. Food was produced from the 'thermal hull', which was a refrigerator, except it was soft and spongy and looked half-alive, just like the computer, and that was somewhere between freaky and awesome, although John didn't feel as interested in the cool alien things as he usually would have been.

He didn't feel very hungry, either. His stomach disagreed and told him that food would probably be a good idea, but the thought of eating didn't seem all that appealing – and it didn't help that the food offered up on the table was mostly an assortment of cold, raw meats and bugs. Seriously, bugs. Larvaes – grubs, maybe? What was the deal with trolls and grubs? John picked one up and looked at it. It was about as big as his hand, soft and mushy with big bug eyes and a lot of tiny legs, and it would have been kind of cool to see it crawling around alive in the forest, but on the breakfast table...? He put it back down.

Karkat sat down and dug in at the grubs with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, and the Dolorosa got herself a huge chunk of red meat, tearing large pieces of it with her teeth. There didn't seem to be any knives or forks, either. John hesitated, then cautiously reached for a slice of something ash-colored that looked vaguely like bread and nibbled at it. It tasted stale, but not horrible. The Dolorosa directed him to a bowl of a yellow sauce that looked like melted butter, gesturing for him to dip, but that just made it taste bitter.

"Now, John," the Signless Karkat said, still chewing on his bugs and reaching for a piece of meat of his own, "Before I start making any grand mission statements here, I want you to tell me your story. Abbreviated is fine if you feel like we don't have all night, but I want to know about you and your troll friends and alien friends and that future you say you're from. Basically I want to know what the hell is going on with you. It's holy fucking important."

John put down the alien bread thing and swallowed what he already had in his mouth. So bitter. "And then you'll help me find Dave?" he asked.

"Yes," Karkat replied. "Assuming that's the right fucking thing to do."

So John told him. He didn't go into the details of the game and the sprites and the Lands and Skaia and all that, but he mentioned that it was a game that killed planets and created universes. He told the Signless Karkat about the twelve trolls and their session, about how Karkat had trolled him backwards in time and then become his friend and how Terezi had gotten him killed in an alternate timeline, and then started palling around with Dave, and how Vriska had helped him get windy powers and told him all sorts of things about Alternia. The Signless Karkat wanted to know more about that, what exactly she had told him, and the explanation was apparently the saddest thing he had ever heard. Other than that, he listened silently and didn't make a lot of comments.

"Basically," John said when he thought he was done, "My planet was destroyed, and your planet was destroyed in the future, and we played a game and got a lot of levels and when we tried to get away from it, this happened." He gestured vaguely at his surroundings.

The Dolorosa looked like she was trying to verbalize a dot-dot-dot statement. "It does seem a bit incredible," she said slowly.

"No," Karkat said, "I believe him." He looked half enlightened and half amused. "And not just because I don't think he's got any reason to make up such a convoluted lie, but because it seems... familiar, somehow."

"You never told me about seeing anything similar to this in your visions."

"No – it's not like I've seen anything like this. Not in a proper vision. It's just—" He waved his hand on the side of his face. "—It's like something I've seen on the edge of sight? Or a dream I can't really remember?"

The Dolorosa frowned. "Well, I believe in _you_. I just wish you weren't going to be rash about this."

"It's not rash! I've been thinking about this for sweeps, and you know it. John is the fucking sign I've been waiting for, and I'm not going to sit by and do nothing tonight! His story just makes me more certain that I _have_ to get out there." He got to his feet and gestured at John. "Look, 'Rosa. John's future sucks shit! It's the same Alternia, hundreds of sweeps from now, and nothing has changed. And then it was destroyed, hey, I would almost say fucking good riddance. Except no, I don't. Because I _know_ our people can be better than that. And even that girl he talked about, the one who grew up killing her peers for lusus food – she only needed the hint of something better and then she was all for it!" He took a deep breath. "This world is _evil_. But I don't think the trolls are. Not really, truly, inevitably."

"I know. But do you really think it's possible to change the entire world?"

"I don't know, but I can sure as hell try. Nothing is going to get better on its own, not if John's future is allowed to happen. This is why I'm having these visions, and it's why you saved me in the first place. Not to stay cooped up in a hidden hive all my life, but to _tell people_. We've talked about this before!"

"Karkat," John said, feeling excluded from the conversation again. "What are you talking about? I thought this was about saving Dave?"

"It is!" Karkat said. "But not just him." He didn't look at John, but met the Dolorosa's eyes. "Right?"

The Dolorosa sighed softly. "I know. If anyone can change the world, it's you. I'm coming with you, of course."

Karkat smiled. "Thanks, 'Rosa."

"But you're talking about changing history," John pointed out. He still didn't really get what exactly the Signless Karkat intended to _do_ , but that much was obvious. "I don't really understand the time stuff, but... It sounds messy. Are you sure it's a good idea?" John would have liked to ask Dave about this, but outright changing time led to being Doomed, didn't it? On the other hand, John being here in the first place might have changed things already. Which was a pretty useless thing to think about, so whatever.

"Look," Karkat said. "Things can change. _Time can be rewritten._ I just know it. And I'm going to do it, too." He was grinning in a very un-Karkat-like manner.

"Okay." John nodded. "Like, what is it you want to change?"

"See, my visions are _real_." He closed his eyes for a moment and John wondered if he was going to have a vision here and now, but then he opened them again and continued. "It's a world where there is no hemoscale, where all trolls are hatched equal, where culling is unthinkable and murder is a crime and people are held together by affection and friendship more than pity and hate. And it's possible, even in a world as twisted as this one, I know it. It's not like all trolls are assholes, or _want_ to be assholes. Trollkind just needs a spark to light the fire."

"And I do think you're right," the Dolorosa said. "But whether that fire can be stronger than the Empire is impossible to tell."

"It can. And it will. You'll see. My own Descendant shouldn't have to grow up in a world as fucked up as this one."

"I sure hope so." The Dolorosa rose from the table and wiped her hands on a napkin. "I assume our first objective is to help John, though?"

"Of course. But I'm keeping the big picture in mind."

"If we're going to leave tonight," the Dolorosa continued, "I'll go pack some necessities. I suggest we look at the presumed maps only when we're ready to leave."

"I agree," Karkat said as she turned and left the room.

"Right," John said. He wasn't sure what to think of all that. If it was possible to change Alternia by the time the cancer Karkat and the others were born, that was a good thing! Even Vriska had wished that things didn't have to be as they were on her planet. But wouldn't that mean that the trolls he knew never had existed? John shook his head, and it occurred to him that they were actually about to leave their home behind and go with him on some crazy mission, and that was a pretty big deal. "Thanks," he said.

"Don't mention it," Karkat said with a shrug. "It's not like we can guarantee anything about your friend. He might still be dead. The best we can do is try to get _you_ there and out again alive. I mean, we can't guarantee that either, it depends on how stupid we all are. And it's going to be a hike – I hope you're up to it. Getting down the mountain to the nearest town takes at least two nights by foot, and we're not going to be able to get a wheeled device until we get there."

"Oh, but we don't have to walk!" John held out his hands and pushed enough wind to make Karkat's hair move. "I can carry us all with my windy thing!"

Karkat's eyes widened. "Your wind powers? You can make all three of us _fly_?"

"Yup! Flying is totally a windy thing."

Karkat grinned, and John felt like he had said the best thing ever. Though the next moment the troll looked over at the barely-touched slice of ash-colored whatever-it-was in front of John, and his smile faded. "John, you haven't eaten," he said. "Please don't tell me human aliens don't eat grubs."


	12. Dave

Striders didn't cry.

On the contrary, Striders took everything in stride, a fact that was right there in an ironically literal way in the name. The fact was so inscribed in the fabric of reality that if Dave Strider was currently rubbing his unorthodoxly exposed eyes with the back of his hand, it couldn't be anything but an ironic gesture that had nothing at all to do with actual tears welling up. He was chill. Chillin' in a cage. It might as well have been a refrigerator with all the cool he was emitting.

He would have been even more chill with his shades, but he might as well have wished for a spoonful of moonlight or a chocolate cupcake. He guessed Redglare had kept them – the shades, though for all he knew she also kept moonlight and cupcakes hidden away somewhere – and with them also his only chance of communicating with his friends. If they were here. Which they weren't, because it was bad enough being unable to help himself, but if John or Jade or Rose got into something like this... There weren't enough handles to make fucking acrobatic pirouettes off in this cage.

Oh, and while he was wishing for some dignity, it would be nice to have his jeans back. It wasn't actually cold, no matter how chill he was, but being naked like a peeled orange didn't make him feel any _less_ like meat for the slaughter.

Dave pressed his face against his knees and wrapped his arms tighter around his legs. He was basically curled up like a scared child. Not that he was one. This was the new cool pose. Besides, the cage – more like a box set into the wall, solid metal on all sides but the one covered with criss-crossing bars – wasn't big enough to either stand up straight or to lie down properly. So curling up was basically the most comfortable position, and that was all there was to say on the matter. He might as well be comfortable while waiting to be turned into alien sushi for science. That was such a lame way to go, like a croaking frog being cut apart alive to teach some kid about anatomy. Bone and muscles and entrails and look – the blood is red. Such an amazing discovery. Give someone the Troll Nobel Prize of Vivisectorture.

 _Fuck._ As much as he'd like to pretend he wasn't terrified, there it was.

But alright. He was cool with being terrified. Being terrified happened naturally when you were slated to be cut open with scalpels while alive and conscious. Just roll with it. Just... Dave rubbed his eyes again with an arm and raised his head, drawing a shaky breath. Just don't cry.

He wasn't going to have any more information for them, no matter what they did to him. Just because he was a master of ironic dishonesty didn't mean he had ever thought to learn the art of building coherent and believable lies. Which turned out to be a bump in the road when the truth wasn't coherent or believable either. Redglare had already picked his story apart like a toddler picks apart a sandwich she doesn't like. Dave had ended up squealing like a goddamn fink with nothing left to lose – he didn't _have_ anything left to lose, and wasn't that a whooper – but he still couldn't give her what she wanted. He couldn't tell her the exact method of his arrival on Alternia ("uncontrolled multiversal time-hopping teleportation" sounded like a joke, and "crashing a game that creates universes" was worse), nor his purpose here (" _it was a fucking accident_ " got tired after a while), nor the stellar coordinates of Earth ("a different universe" wasn't good enough), and although she made him give her the names of his troll 'accomplices', beginning with Terezi Pyrope, he doubted she was going to find them anywhere on this version of Alternia. Nothing he could say, true or false, was the slightest bit verifiable.

Of course, Redglare wasn't stupid. She'd gotten the message, eventually. Right before she put her alien bananafoofaser gun to his forehead and shot him again, she had told him that she believed he was either brainwashed or insane. "It might be that you are truly unable to give real testimony. Sadly for you, that is not considered a defense. Don't expect to be shown mercy."

Dave got the message, too.

The next thing he remembered was being in transit, blindfolded, gagged and tied up like a christmas present. And a splitting headache on top of that. At about the point when the pain from being stungunned point blank to the skull was starting to fade – some thirty-eight minutes later – he had been dragged away by a couple of bruisers through this laboratory.

The blindfold had been removed, and Dave had been greeted by a whole bunch of troll strangers in white and gray uniforms and unfamiliar symbols in blue and teal and dark green on the front of their shirts, all chatting excitedly about Dave like he was the new flavor of popcorn. They had been gracious enough not to cut him open immediately. Apparently they had to do some preliminary examination and take some samples first. That, and as far as Dave understood it, they were also waiting for some head honcho to arrive, presumably from vacation on Troll Hawaii.

He had been held down by the two guards and efficiently stripped, weighted, measured, x-rayed and poked with instruments and needles. Human Anatomy 101. No big deal. Nothing to break out in cold sweat about. Or struggle like an idiot. He clenched his teeth and touched some of the bruises already forming on his wrists where the guards had easily crushed his attempts to wriggle out of their grip. Okay, so maybe he hadn't been perfectly fine with it, but whatever.

No, the worst part had been listening to the troll scientists talk. It wasn't like they had tried to interrogate him. The gag was only removed when they wanted to poke around in his mouth like fucking dentists, so it wasn't like he was going to talk back, either. These guys weren't interested in _him_ , just the stuff his body was made of. But they tried hard enough to freak him out planning to measure his intestines, or finding out the inside construction of a nipple, or conserving his eyes in oil.

Dave got enough from listening to their chatter to understand that since he was marked as "unhelpful", they were indeed going to vivisect him without any anesthetics. That was more than he wanted to know right there. Apparently a "highblood" was going to be present for extraction of confessions, and that was the part that seemed to disturb their groove, not inflicting excruciating pain on an alien kid. Fuck them.

After the examination, Dave was ungently thrown in the cage like a sack of potatoes for storage. A bit manhandled, more humiliated, and mostly scared out of his wits. He folded like a house of cards when the guards dropped him. Must have been an amusing sight.

That had been two hours and forty-three minutes ago, and was why Dave was presently not crying, but coolly regarding the fact that he was screwed beyond hope and wishing that it could just be over with soon. He wasn't sure how he managed to keep track of time, considering that subjectively it felt like much longer. Leftover timeshit in his head, he supposed. Whatever. Without the timetables, being the Knight of Time was about as useful as being a wristwatch.

Dave forced himself to let go of his knees and stretch his legs out in front of him. The cage was just barely large enough to straighten his legs if he sat with his back against the back wall, and if he lined up on the diagonal, he could even stretch his feet. He inched forward a bit and kicked the bars for good measure. It didn't rattle, his bare foot making a dull thud and no more, and neither did it make him feel any better.

He scuffed over closer to the bars, not that he could see anything from there that he couldn't see from a few feet in. The room outside was still empty. He knew his cage was just one in a row, although he couldn't see it from this angle, but the other cages had been empty since he arrived. No other unfortunates on Gruesome-Death Row today. He would try to stand up again, but the cage was only high enough to stand if he bowed his head down, and that was a recipe for headache.

He supposed that if he had been a full-grown troll, horns and all, the cage would have been even horriblier. That was an egbertian word. The point being that things could always be worse.

Besides, he might be naked and helpless and locked in a cage, and he did have a few smaller cuts and bruises that stung and ached a bit – but it wasn't like he was in horrible pain right now. See, there's another one. He was just teeming with things that could be worse.

Dave ran his fingers through his hair. It felt dirty. He had been too caught up in all the sick shit going on back in sburb to remember to shower properly. Frankly, he was still caught in shit. God, that wasn't even funny. He was slipping – perhaps he'd really go insane and start bleating like a goat for no purpose at all.

In any case, the only thing that seriously _hurt_ was the half-nail they had cut from his left thumb. Whatever the hell they would do with a piece of fingernail. The biggest bruise was the one on his left arm, and that barely hurt at all. It already covered a good part of the inner elbow area and was still growing, but it looked much worse than it was. The trolls had stuck a needle in him some fifteen or twenty times trying to draw blood into a syringe before finally getting enough of the red stuff. Meh. They kept missing the artery. It _kept hapening_. And then there was the bruises from the guards, and a few small cuts in his shins where they had taken some skin and hair, and... Stuff. Nothing that bled.

Hell, the fucking claw mark Redglare had made on his cheek would be the one that'd leave a scar, and in his face, at that. She had kept going for it, cutting a little further every time, as if she just couldn't get enough of his goddamn candy blood. He ran his fingers over the scabs. Part of it would probably be covered by the shades. And besides, it might be a sexy, bad-ass scar. Perhaps he'd cut another line across it and get an ironic anime-style X-shape.

Yeah, he would do that. Since he was obviously going to survive the next few days, skip happily back to Earth and resume his normal life of mixing ill beats, having rooftop duels with Bro, and pestering his chums. John would worry about the scar, Rose would tell him exactly what kind of complex it signified, and Jade would tell him that was sooooo cool. Bro would give him that little nod that he did when Dave did something approvable.

That was a completely sincere fantasy. He was so fucking tired.

Dave leaned back against the wall again and closed his eyes, relaxing in spite of himself. For a moment he could almost believe that he was back on Earth. There was the sound of traffic, the warmth of the sun, the smell of exhaust gases and people and pizza from the place around the corner. Just another day in the most boring and awesome city in the multiverse. Dave stood on the street and listened, and it suddenly hit him that he could hear the _beat of time_.

He wasn't asleep. Not completely, at least, as he could still feel his heavy limbs against the lukewarm metal, and realizing that made the mirage of Houston disappear from his eyelids like it had never been there. He knew he was still trapped in a cage on Alternia – not on Earth, not in the Medium, not anywhere else. But he could still _hear_ it. The passing of time reverberated all around him, not just seconds and minutes going about their business one at a time, but the twists and turns, the depths and shallows, all mixing with his own heartbeat, all within reach.

Why did he think he was helpless? All he had to do was scratch the record. Earth might be out of reach, but beyond the game, time was eternal. Before he knew it his hands were raised at his sides, intuitively measuring an exact jump to the far, far future.

Nothing happened.

Dave's eyes flew open, but there were no timetables, no scratch in the timeline, no change in his situation. The beat of time was again reduced to a vague buzz in the back of his mind, useless and pointless. The sense of power was gone, like a reverse nightmare, like the forces of time dancing on the future grave of their Knight. It was too much. Not cool.

He barely noticed that he was shaking, every tendril in his body tensing until his clenched fists beat down on the floor of the cage with all the strength he could muster and it still wasn't enough. He hit the floor again, and then the wall, and when that didn't help either, he threw his head back and screamed.


	13. Jade

"Reely noww." Dualscar's face was hidden behind the veil he was wearing, but his tone was flat. "Is that the best you can come up wwith?"

"I'm serious, though!" Jade protested. The heat from the morning sun on her back and shoulders felt unnatural and uncomfortable, more like fumes from the volcano back home than sunshine, but she was past panicking and into some kind of post-panic state of frenzied determination. Her heart beat furiously in her chest. "I can help you stump your kismesis _good_! And I'm the only one who can do it, because I don't see any other space witches around here, do you?"

Dualscar snorted. "Wwhat makes you think I need help wwith her?"

"I didn't say you _need_ help. I just told you something useful I could do for you. Because you asked me to be of use, remember? But I can only do that if you don't kill me!"

"Then tell me about it," Dualscar said. "You havve until your skin starts blisterin'."

"No, I don't!" Jade growled and pulled stubbornly at her bonds. "I told you I can't feel my hands and if you don't release me like right now I could lose them! And I'm not going to be any good to you or anyone else if I don't have any hands!" Her back side and arms were starting to feel extremely hot, but really, that wasn't the most urgent thing. "You don't have anything to lose, _please_ get this off me!"

Dualscar grunted, then shrugged as if it was actually no big deal. "Wwhatevver." A pocket knife snapped open in his hand, cutting the tape from the railing with one quick slice. "Are you happy noww?"

Jade stared at her hands with a mixture of relief and apprehension. She hadn't quite dared to expect that he'd actually cut her loose. "Thanks," she managed. Her hands were still numb. She gingerly pulled them away from the railing and got the sticky tape off with a bit of elbow leverage, but she couldn't even feel the tape ripping away. That couldn't be good.

She must have frozen for a second, staring at her freed but unresponsive fingers. Dualscar got her attention by grabbing her roughly by the upper arm with a gloved hand and shaking her. "Noww talk."

Jade was flustered. "It's a bit complicated," she said, forcing herself to ignore both the frightening numbness in her hands and the burning sun on her back that grew more painful by the moment. It _was_ complicated, especially since she had absolutely no idea if it was going to work or not, because she didn't know anything about the future. All she knew was that she had messed up everything, and all she had was here and now. This ship, this ocean, this douchebag of a troll and this sun that started to feel like it was really going to burn her right through. "I'll put it simply," she said. "I could steal your kismesis' treasure."

Dualscar tilted his head in a curious way. "You're original, I'll givve you that," he said. "You're completely helpless and wweak like a cuttlefish hatchling, and you think you could one-up Spinneret Mindfang in thievvery?"

"Stop insulting me!" Jade practically barked at him. "That's rude and obnoxious! And I'm only helpless right now because—" _Oh shit._ She gasped loudly as her hands chose that moment to regain sensation, and all she could do was to wish they hadn't. It hurt oh god it _hurt_. Jade stumbled and crashed headfirst into Dualscar's coat, pressing her hands against her stomach, face scrunching up in pain. It burned, not like the sun but burning from the inside, throbbing with spikes of pain for every heartbeat. She had hoped for something like the tingling of a foot when you sat on it for too long, but it wasn't like that at all. It was horrible.

Dualscar pushed her away to arm's length. "Wwhat the hell's goin' on?"

"It hurts," she gasped. "But I'm okay. I'll be okay. But... Please could we go inside and talk?" She could hardly think, not with the sun beating down on her on top of her hands throbbing like they were broken. She didn't know what she'd do if he refused. "Please?"

Dualscar sighed. "Vvery wwell." Jade looked up and glimpsed white teeth behind the dark fabric of his veil. "I'll givve you a chance to explain your magic. If you make me regret this, you're back outside and I'll get someone to tie you dowwn wwith fishhooks this time."

Before Jade could gather herself enough to reply, he was half dragging, half leading her across the deck. She instinctively squeezed her eyes shut and used her free arm to block the sunlight from her face, feeling shaken and hurt but finally just a little bit hopeful.

Dualscar shoved her inside the stern tower of the ship and slammed the door behind them, leaving the burning heat and the stinging light behind, and Jade could have hugged him in relief. "Thank you," she said, sagging against a cool indoors wall, so nice against her back. Away from the sun, it felt like her hands hurt more, though. She tried to wriggle her fingers and succeeded with a mixture of a relieved sigh and a hiss of pain. Dualscar let go of her arm with a disgusted scuff and kept an eye on her as he pulled the black sun coat off and left it hanging on a hook with others like it. She could have tried to run. Considering the state she was in and the size difference between them, he would have caught her before she reached the next door.

Dualscar ushered her down a flight of stairs and inside a chamber on the first belowdeck floor at the very stern end of the ship. It was dark compared to the too-bright sunshine outside, cluttered and not overly large.

"Down," Dualscar ordered, pointing at a spot on the floor while locking the door behind them, and Jade found herself obeying even though she hated the sudden thought that it made her Dualscar's good dog. But honestly, sitting on the floor was better than standing right now. She would have wanted nothing more than to fall apart and nuzzle her stupid hands, but that wasn't an option. She had to concentrate, even though the pain made her jaws clench and her eyes tear and it was _distracting_. She was pretty sure that it had to be good pain – it meant that her hands weren't numb and dead – but it made it so hard to focus on anything else. And Dualscar would kill her if she didn't convince him not to. Being distracted by pain that wasn't going to kill her was what might get her killed and she had already decided that she _wasn't_ going to let herself be slaughtered. So she just had to... _oh god why did it hurt so much?_

Jade clumsily wriggled her fingers in her lap. That didn't really make it feel either better or worse. She tried rubbing her hands against each other, though that didn't help getting her feeling back to reasonable levels either. Her hands _were_ going to be fine, weren't they?

"Wwell?" Dualscar said.

"Well what!?" Jade snapped, yelling without meaning to. Oh noo. She couldn't afford to lash out. Her life depended on being diplomatic. And maybe not just her own life. She had messed this up for everyone. She really _had_ to give Dualscar a good argument, and how was she supposed to do that when she could barely think? She almost wished her hands were still numb – no, she didn't want to _lose_ them, but... Right now she could barely feel anything else, not the bruise on her face or the aching muscles or even the sunburn that was already starting to color her arms red. The goddamn blood rushing back into her hands was just that distracting.

"Wwell are you gonna melt into glubbin' grubsauce on my flooring or are you goin' to tell me about your magic wwitch thiefin' skills? Gotta say if you've got magic in you, you havven't showwn it so far." He had settled half prone on a large pile of some alien corals or something in the middle of the room, one leg on the floor and the other up on the pile, head supported by a propped up elbow. He didn't seem all that wary of her, and Jade realized that he really _didn't_ think of her as a threat. She supposed this was a good thing, even though Grandpa would have disagreed.

"Yes, I know," Jade said. She forced her shoulders to relax and tried again to focus. The room still seemed a bit dark, but her eyes were starting to get used to the dimness, and maybe this was how trolls preferred it. It wasn't overly large, but it was cluttered with all sorts of weird paraphernalia, making her think of Grandpa's, though with more fish and slimy wormlike ornaments, and even some troll horns. A carved dresser stood in one corner, and the empty areas of the walls were covered with purple banners. The pile Dualscar was sprawled on looked jagged and uncomfortable, but he seemed at ease in it, looking down on Jade like a particularly nasty king from a throne. "I'm not going to melt," she told him, though she guessed he was probably mocking her. "It's just that my hands hurt."

"Fuckin' soft tissue alien," Dualscar mumbled. "That's not wwhat I asked."

"Yes. Right. I can—" She flinched at a particularly vicious throb in her hands. "There are some things I can do. Because I'm an alien space witch." She had to pause and take a slow breath, but Dualscar didn't say anything, only watched her with slightly narrowed eyes. "But... can you tell me a couple of things first? Like, Spinneret is the spider girl, isn't she? I mean, the one—"

"She matches your description of my Descendant's rivval. Wwhich doesn't mean your story isn't a load of bullshit. Go on."

"It's not bullshit, jeez! You know it's not bullshit! I think you believe me and just don't want to admit it!" Maybe she shouldn't have said that, considering the way Dualscar's expression darkened, but it was too late.

"Alien," Dualscar said slowly, leaning forward but not rising from the coral pile. He was obviously back to pretending she had no name. "I believve you're an landlocked member of a vvastly inferior species wwith unnaturally ugly blood and delusions of survvivvability. Anyfin else is incidental. I'm curious about twwo things, the first bein' wwhat you'd look like dryin' like a stranded squid in the sunshine, and the second bein' exactly howw you're going' to plead for your pathetic life. I'm goin' to have one of those curiosities satisfied right noww, but you can choose wwhich."

Jade closed her eyes and took a deep breath, like she knew was a thing to do when you were angry. She opened and closed her hands as far as she could, trying to will the pain away. "I'm sorry. Please don't kill me? You can believe what you want to, I was trying to talk about Spinneret." She opened her eyes and forced herself to look at him again. "You saw her recently, didn't you say that?" She thought he had. "Did you... did you actually _see_ that alien she found?"

"Yeah, I did. She didn't, wwhich wwas hilarious wwith her so-called vvision eight-fold that she's so proud of. I riled her up reel good by pointin' it out." He smirked.

"So, what did it look like?" Jade lowered her voice, failing to make the question as casual as she wanted to. "Like me?"

"More or less, wwith some wweird pale hair, and a black dress with a wwhite sign. Looked kinda scared and pathetic and the last I saww Spinneret wwas furious. I dunno wwhat she did wwith it, and I don't really care. Are you goin' to get to the point before midday?"

 _Rose._ Jade barely listened beyond 'pale hair and black dress'. Just like that it was solidly confirmed – Rose was here. Dualscar had seen her and knew where she was. Assuming Vriska's Ancestor hadn't killed her, but Jade _had_ to assume that. And if Rose was alive and in a known place, Jade needed to convince Dualscar to take her there. Before things got even worse. She had to be strong, and her _stupid silly grubfucking hands_ weren't going to get in the way.

She was still trying to exercise her fingers, and although her hands didn't hurt any less, perhaps the adrenaline was getting to her. Her teeth clenched around her tongue to stop her from saying anything more stupid, but then she forced her lips into a smile. "Yes," she said. "I'm getting to the point soon! There's just one more thing I want to know – do you know where Spinneret is now?"

"I have an idea wwhere she's goin'. She'll probably be at sea for a night or twwo."

At sea. Jade's heart raced, reverberating in her aching hands. Why did it have to be so difficult? "Okay," she said. "See, I could get in contact with Rose – the other alien. And if we're in the right place at the right time, we could sneak her away from right under Spinneret's nose. Wouldn't that make her angry?"

Dualscar snorted. "I wwondered if it wwould be something like that. I'm disappointed."

Jade felt her stomach clench. "Something like what?"

"Savvin' your little co-alien. That's all this is about. Wwhat is she, a quadrant of yours?"

"Not a quadrant, a _friend_! And of course I want to save her! We could help _each other_. It would still mess with your kismesis."

"A bit, but not enough to go through the trouble. Unless you're telling me you can _magic_ things right out of someone's hold, wwhich wwould be somewwhat interestin'."

"Actually, I could," Jade said stubbornly. "With the right equipment."

"Showw me."

"I _said_ , with the right equipment! Jeez, I don't have any transportalizers or appearifyers on me! I lost all my cool stuff like three times already since this whole thing started! You know what, I could probably build a transportalizer for you if you give me time." She could, with the right materials; she did know well enough how it worked. "But I could talk to Rose right now, and she's inside Spinneret's ship, isn't she? So—"

"Spinneret Mindfang doesn't let her slavves escape as easily as you seem to think. And shore, if she did keep that alien, she'd be annoyed if I took it, but if I wwanted to, I wwould havve done that last night. Wwhat the shell wwould I do wwith _twwo_ useless human aliens?"

"I'm not useless. Stop saying that! And neither is Rose. You just keep saying that, like it doesn't even mean anything." Jade shook her head emphatically. "See, I'm a witch, but Rose is a _seer_ , and that means she knows a lot of stuff, even more than I do, because she's really smart! Even if she doesn't realize it herself sometimes. Try to think about it. If you don't want me to go tell people about your crush on the empress, then you _really_ don't want her to tell everything she knows to your own kismesis, do you?"

Dualscar flinched visibly at that. She got him. Jade let got of her breath and relaxed, clenching and unclenching her hands again.

And then he shook it off. "After I kill you," he said casually, "perhaps I'll send an assassin for her."

Jade stared at him with wide eyes. "What? No!"

"Wwhy not? All you told me is that I'm better off wwith the other alien dead."

"I didn't mean that! Rose is really clever and she really is a seer, but that's _good_! She could see things for you and help you in all sorts of ways!"

"All I see is a pathetic little alien girl tryin' to get back to her flushcrush. And I'm not interested in gettin' tangled in that. Good tip about gettin' rid of Spinneret's alien, though."

Jade squeezed her eyes shut. Did she just make everything worse? How could she make everything worse, it was already as bad as it could be! "But I'm—"

"Do you havve anything else to say before I declare this a glubbin' wwaste of time?" Dualscar shifted and rose from the coral pile, and Jade found herself stumbling to her feet, backing into the locked door. She'd done this all wrong. She didn't know what Dualscar wanted from her, but this wasn't it, and she hadn't been in a position to haggle. She was so going to die now.

Dualscar reached for her, and Jade ducked instinctively, but there weren't really anywhere to run in this room. Dualscar made an annoyed growl and caught her by the hair, grabbing her throat with his other hand and slamming her back against the door. He didn't say anything, just looked at her with an annoyed – not even angry – expression on his face.

"I really could make you a transportalizer," she tried, voice wheezing. "Or other stuff. Alien stuff. I'm pretty good at tinkering with technology." She tried to wriggle out of his grip, but her aching hands were pretty much unusable against his, and struggling just made him clamp down harder on her throat, so she went still. It occurred to her that she could try to swear him allegiance – maybe if she said she'd do _anything_ he'd let her live. She should do that, she really should. She couldn't fix anything if she was dead.

"I... I'll—" she tried, but the words wouldn't come. Her throat hurt and her hands hurt and her skin hurt and she didn't want to die, but the words wouldn't come. Dualscar looked down on her, and the annoyance on his face seemed to shift, first to some impassive thoughtfulness, then to a twisted grin.

"No," he said, unexpectedly letting her go. Jade doubled over and coughed.

"No?" she panted, not quite getting it.

"Killin' you noww wwould be a bit of a wwaste. You do havve a point about Spinneret. If your friend is all that, Spinneret's face is gonna be priceless."

"Really?" Jade wasn't sure what to feel – if he was serious, if he was mocking her, if he was going to kill her or not, if she should laugh or cry.

"Yeah, I figure wwe're going to see Spinneret tonight and it'll be beautiful. Start communin' or wwhatevver it is alien wwitches do wwith their little pity objects."

Jade nodded and crouched down to reach for a shoe. Maybe things would be alright after all. Maybe she'd get to see Rose, and maybe they'd both be alright, and the boys... And maybe she had just made an even bigger mess of things. She barely noticed when she sagged to the side, asleep even before she hit the floor.


	14. John

John actually did try a grub in the end, and like the Lion King, he came to the conclusion that it was slimy, but filling. He was pretty proud of himself that he managed to finish one and not throw up, and at least it made him stop being hungry.

The maps Terezi's Ancestor had sent were pretty good, or at least so the Dolorosa said. In John's opinion it was no Google Alternia, but neither was it a quick scribble by a blind kid, which made it both better and worse than what Terezi had managed back in the Medium. The Dolorosa made a couple of prints and quickly went over the maps with John and Karkat, pointing out the route they had to travel, complete with a lot of weird place names. Apparently the meeting place was somewhere close to a city called Kroya. The Dolorosa finished packing by rolling the computer grub up like a carpet and putting it in a shoulder bag, and they were ready to go.

It seemed the Dolorosa and the Signless Karkat didn't have sylladexes, so there were a lot of bags. John asked about putting the stuff on cards, but they just looked confused as if captchalogue technology hadn't even been invented. Maybe it hadn't – this was long ago, right? And John had lost his sylladex, so he couldn't show them, which was pretty sad. He offered to at least carry a bag or two, but the trolls wouldn't let him.

"You should concentrate your efforts on flying," the Dolorosa said. "Don't overexert yourself. We would rather you not collapse in mid-air and drop us to our deaths." She showed him the maps one final time, making sure he knew their present location and in which direction they wanted to go. John had it down. He summoned the breeze and made them take off into the air.

Karkat made an undignified sound as his feet lost contact with the ground. "Holy fucking shit," he said. "This is amazing!"

John grinned from ear to ear. "I know! Flying is basically the best thing ever." It was too bad that that the real Karkat – the Cancer Karkat – never got to even try it. If John ever met that Karkat in some place that wasn't outside of everything, he vowed to take him for a flight, too. He bet he'd enjoy it as much as the Signless one did, even if he'd probably not admit it as easily. In the meantime, the Signless Karkat looked down at the ground, then up at John with a wide-eyed smile that looked so weird and still so right on his face that John simply had to laugh.

Actually, John might have had gotten used to his Windy Thing in the Medium, but this was the first time he used it properly away from the game, on a real planet with real air and real winds and real mountains and real distance. At first just the fact that he could do it at all was enough to make him forget to be nervous about the future or worried about Dave or anything. He loved flying. Green and purple alien moonlight poured down on them as they pshooed over the grassy valley and scattered treetops, reaching the mountains and flying between the mountainsides in the direction the Dolorosa indicated.

Time passed with an ever-changing landscape rolling by beneath them. Keeping up the Windy Thing wasn't exhausting as such – it didn't make him out of breath or make his muscles ache or anything like that – but it did take a lot of concentration. John had to keep all three of them aloft and moving at the same pace, keep the natural wind from blowing them off course and the speed wind from tearing into their faces, and keeping everything in mind at once took some getting used to.

He had almost forgotten how big real planets were. It didn't look like the place Terezi's Ancestor had given them was very far away on the map – it wasn't like it was on the other side of the world or anything – but every time he brought the Dolorosa close to check on their position he was surprised by how slowly they moved. The ground below rushed by, and he was pretty sure that they traveled much faster than they would by car on the ground, but it felt like it wasn't fast enough. John could have circled any planet in the Medium in less time than it took to get away from the mountain range, but this world just kept on going forever, like it didn't care that he was in a hurry. He tried to take them higher, like a plane, but going high was like sinking into ice water, and he was forced to take them lower again, shivering and with Karkat's annoyed swearing in his ears.

They took a break on the forest floor at some point during the night, mostly because the Dolorosa insisted that he take them down. John hadn't even noticed the tense headache that had been building up behind his temples until he landed and let the wind dissipate, finally letting himself relax for a bit.

"Oww." John squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead.

"Are you alright?" the Dolorosa asked immediately. "I don't know exactly how straining this activity is for you, as I understand psychic abilities are very much individual, but I hope you will not exhaust yourself beyond the breaking point. I hope you understand that this is important."

"We're in a hurry, though," John muttered.

"Yes, but like I asserted earlier, I would rather not have all three of us plummet to our doom because you refused to acknowledge exhaustion."

John nodded and smiled a little. "Yeah, you have a point. I'm fine, actually, it's just a bit of a headache."

"You did take a crapfucking beating from the sun at its highest earlier," Karkat said, looking up from rummaging through one of the packs. "Here." He tossed John a bottle of water. "I know 'Rosa's good at knowing when someone needs a rest, but do _tell_ us if you feel like sitting down for a while. I can't believe how fast we're going anyway!"

John hesitated for a second, then slumped down on the ground. "Just a little while, maybe," he admitted. The water had the same strangely sweet aftertaste as before, but it was good, and the two trolls sat down with him in a little circle, sharing some kind of nightly lunch picnic in the darkness under the trees. It was nice – cozy even – and awesomely spooky with the colored moonlight filtering in between the leaves.

Karkat offered him a grubsandwich, and John decided that when a grub was cut into pieces and put between two slices of that bread-like stuff, it wasn't all that bad. Perhaps not particularly delicious, but two solids steps above batterwitch cake. The Dolorosa assured him that they were indeed making unexpectedly fast progress, and at this speed they would probably be able to reach the meeting point before dawn the same night, which was encouraging, even though John still felt like they were going unbearably slow, and he didn't exactly look forward to seeing the sun again.

John's headache did disappear pretty quickly, and at his insistence they cut the break short and flew off again before long. The Dolorosa did most of the navigating, though John totally could have done it himself by the map. Probably. Though it definitely made it less stressful to just go where she pointed and not have to think too much about it. She also made sure they avoided flying directly above any towns or too close to radio towers or whatever the "broadcastaganda masts" she warned him about really was, which was pretty smart. John wasn't sure he would have thought of it on his own.

He was impatient, but he didn't really want to think about what might be waiting for them at the destination. The Dolorosa tried to breach the subject a couple of times, but John shrugged her off. It wasn't like she knew anything about Terezi's Ancestor either, and the way she talked about traps and baits just made him nervous. Anyway, even though the long flight was taxing in a way, it was still flying, the very wind in his hair bowing to his command, and he felt a lot better just enjoying it.

Karkat started passing the time by telling him stories, mostly of his visions, which sounded pretty awesome – sort of like Jade's life on Prospit except completely different – and some about the real Alternia, the way it worked and the ways it definitely didn't work at all. The Dolorosa sometimes added stories from her own experience. It left John more convinced than ever that Alternia was a seriously messed up place. Sometimes they'd ask John to tell them more about Earth, and John was happy to tell them, especially about his favorite movies. Even though he got the feeling he wasn't as good at explaining things as the Signless Karkat was, time passed quickly enough.

He did make a few mental notes to himself about what to do when they arrived. The first thing was to confirm that Dave was alright, and if not, get him out of there. That was the most important part. If he had to kick not-quite-Terezi's ass to do it, he totally would, so there. The second was to not get his new friends hurt, not if he could help it. The third was to avoid getting himself killed while doing something brave. That last part was something the Cancer Karkat had hammered into his head, and he guessed it still applied. He could die, as long as he wasn't being a hero about it. Which, when it came down to it, was pretty difficult to pin down. If he was trying to protect his friends, did that count as too brave? But none of them had gotten to god tier before they broke the game, so they couldn't die _at all_ , and that was not fun to think about, so he didn't. Not that he wanted to die again himself in the first place, but yeah.

John had pretty much completely lost track of any kind of time when the Dolorosa announced that they should touch down again. By then they were flying over another forest, a sea of humongous trees creating an ever-shifting surface of purple leaves below them. The Dolorosa directed John to land not on the ground, but on a tree branch, wide as a sidewalk, on a tree at edge of the wood. Below them were the outskirts of a city, lights spreading out towards the horizon and the first few houses – hives – almost directly neighboring the trees, an unmarked but sharp line separating forest from the backyard lawn rings.

The Dolorosa showed John the map again. "We're _here_ ," she said and pointed with a sharp, green-painted claw. "The meeting point is _here_." She barely moved her finger. It was really close, though in the direction of the forest, not the town. John had known that they were approaching, but he could still feel his heart beat faster when she confirmed it like that on the map.

"Alright," he said. "I guess I should tell her that I'm here. Can I use the computer?"

Karkat slapped him lightly on the back of his head. "No you can't, moron. We've already been over this – charging in without any semblance of a plan would be the most grubfucking stupid thing you could do!" He crossed his arms and looked sort of stubborn about it.

John grimaced. "I know you said that, but do you _have_ a plan? Because if you do have a plan, I'm listening, but otherwise I don't think we're going to accomplish anything by standing around here." He glanced in the supposed direction of the meeting place. "It's not like you have to come with me. I mean, you helped me get here and find the place and I'm grateful for that, but we don't know what's up ahead, and you don't have to risk yourselves for me! I can—"

"That's exactly the thing!" Karkat interrupted. "We don't know anything about this GC person or what she's doing over there, but we can _find out_! Right, 'Rosa?"

"We can definitely try," the Dolorosa said with a nod. "I have never visited this area before, but the town here is a suburb to the city of Kroya, which is a major spaceport city. It is possible that asking a few innocent questions will tell us something about recently spotted illegal aliens, or what, if anything, goes on in this forest."

"Yes. That's what I was thinking." Karkat glanced towards the closest hives with a strangely longing expression on his face, but then he turned back to John all serious business. "She probably doesn't expect us yet, and that's our advantage. We have some time to get our bearings, unless you waste that by charging in and getting yourself culled before you can say _oh fuck me_."

"I'm not sure," John said. He guessed it made sense to be careful, but he didn't like it. "Are you sure she doesn't expect us yet? She told me to hurry, and it seems like the sooner we get there the better." He didn't want to add 'she might kill Dave', because John was pretty sure being a hostage was about as far from cool as it goes, and Dave would kick his ass for talking about him like a damsel in distress, especially if this whole thing was really some kind of elaborate prank from Terezi's side, which was a possibility John didn't want to completely disregard. But still. He didn't want to waste time. Because she might kill Dave.

"I know you're worried about your friend," the Signless Karkat said, as if he was reading John's mind. "But if she's kept him alive so far, she probably won't kill him before you arrive. And if not, there's nothing you can do in either case, so fretting won't help him squat."

"In all likelihood," the Dolorosa said, "she told you to hurry for the sole purpose of rattling you into doing exactly what you are about to do, which is to say rush into a trap without preparation."

John hesitated. "I don't know..."

"Yes you do," Karkat told him. "We're not going to delay for long. But 'Rosa and I _are_ going to come with you to meet her, and we'd like to know at least a little bit about what to expect."

"So you're saying we're going to go to town, first." Maybe they were right, maybe John was just playing into the hands of the blind troll girl. It wouldn't be the first time, he supposed. He didn't really want to delay, but hey, it was an alien city. And Dave had been in a city when he sent that first message, hadn't he? So it probably wasn't a completely unrelated place.

Karkat shook his head. "Well. Not 'we', unfortunately."

"Indeed," the Dolorosa agreed. "We can't bring you along without attracting undue attention, which would compromise any possibility of attaining the information we need."

"But—"

"Given sufficient time and material," she continued, "I could probably fashion a disguise that would make you passable as a troll. But even so, it wouldn't hold up to scrutiny, and moreover, you are too short to pass for fully grown adult. Children are not expected outside of the areas set aside for the next generation, and would attract attention no matter how much like a troll you appeared. Seeing as you yourself want to hurry, it would be much more expedient for you to wait here while the two of us go."

"Right," John said slowly. Why did they have to make so much sense? "Hypothetically, how long do you think that would take?"

"It depends a lot on how lucky we are," the Dolorosa said. "Dawn is going to break in an hour or so. After that presumably the day life is going to flourish for a while before settling down around noon. It is generally a good time of the cycle for talking to strangers. If you are up for it, I suggest we reconvene here at noon and confront your enemy either during the day or next evening."

"You've been flapping around like a wingbeast all night," Karkat told John. "So I'd say you could use some sleep. Rest a bit while we're gone. 'Rosa always kept nagging me to sleep properly when I was younger."

The Dolorosa narrowed her eyes at him. "You could still do with sleeping more regularly," she commented.

He gave her a wry grin. "So could you, but we're not going to. We're going to town."

John rolled his eyes at them. Yeah, he was tired, but he definitely didn't feel like sleeping. Especially not all alone in the alien forest when the goal was so close, but it _did_ make sense to know what they were doing first, and Karkat and the Dolorosa were only trying to help. Although... He looked up at the sky, which was still dark beyond the leaf canopy – but they were talking about waiting until noon. "Isn't the sun going to kill me if I stay out here?" he asked. "It sort of almost did when I was outside at noon yesterday."

Karkat had already removed his large backpack and was pulling out a large coat, black and glossy, with matching gloves and a hood and a dark veil over the head. He handed it to John. "Here, it's a sun coat. Wear it when the sun comes up. It absorbs harmful light and protects you. It still gets fucking hot if you stand in direct light, but you should be fine here under the leaves." Before John could answer, he stepped closer to John and put his hands on John's shoulders, looking at him with steady eyes. "We can trust you that you're not going to go off to meet this GC on your own, can't we?"

John didn't reply immediately. Dammit. That was probably a thing he should promise, but that meant he had to go along with waiting around and doing nothing for hours! He wasn't sure he could. But Karkat's gaze didn't waver, looking at him like he expected him to be good and reasonable, never mind that _John_ was supposed to be the friendleader. "Alright," John said at last. "I won't try to meet Terezi's Ancestor all alone, I promise."

"Good," Karkat said, giving John a pat on the shoulder and getting back to rummage further into the backpack and talking in a more conversational tone. "You know, I understand how you feel. I don't know what I'd do if 'Rosa was to be culled or something. Freak out, obviously. Actually, I used to freak out every time I heard about anyone being culled, or murdered, or enslaved or tortured or anything because it's not fucking _fair_. And it happens all the time, because we're all told that anyone who is the slightest bit different, or does something a little bit out of line, or just happens to have a warmer shade of blood than yourself is not worth a fucking damn."

"Troll society is really messed up," John said, crouching down next to him. He'd been saying that a lot during the night.

"And it's going to stay that way unless someone makes people _see_ that." Karkat made a short, growling noise. "Anyway, what I wanted to say was that it's the last thing I want for your friend to die, and if it's possible to save him, we're going to. But that includes not getting ourselves culled either. And I get that you don't want to wait around, but we're not going to get anything done if we have to sneak around dodging authority figures for looking suspicious. I mean, this asshole planet considers me culling fork fodder too, but at least I _look_ like I belong here."

"Yeah, I get it."

"Fine," Karkat said, and then he didn't say anything more for a few moments. He finished getting some stuff from the bag, including two more of the glossy black sun coats. The Dolorosa came up to his side, carrying the shoulder bag with the computer grub.

"Let's not waste John's time," she said. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," the Signless Karkat replied, slinging a smaller bag over his shoulder and hanging the cloaks over his arm. "Why are you bringing the computer grub?"

"In case we find an open slugware store, I'd like to have someone look it over for trackers." The Dolorosa tapped her fingers on the bag. "It would be convenient to be able to use it without worry." She turned to John. "Speaking of which, is there any piece of equipment you need for us to acquire for you?"

John frowned. "I don't suppose you have smaller computers? Like a PDA or an iPhone just for sending messages and keeping in contact?" He mimed typing on a PDA.

Apparently not. The Dolorosa and Karkat gave each other one of those glances that they kept exchanging when John said something strange.

"Nevermind," John said quickly. It would probably have been too expensive anyway. "A hammer, maybe?"

"A hammer." The Dolorosa sounded a bit skeptical to that, too.

"A big one, like this." John showed with his hands. "In case we have to fight. Hammerkind is my strife specibus! Though I guess I lost my specibus, but it's still the kind I'm the most used to. So a hammer would be cool."

"A strife hammer," the Dolorosa repeated again and nodded. "I'll see what can be done." She gestured towards the bags she had left over where the branch met the trunk. "We're leaving a bit of luggage here, assuming you don't mind. There's food in the green bag, and you can probably find a sleeping bag in the large yellow one. It would be good for your health if you got some rest."

"Yeah, I got it. Please come back soon."

The Dolorosa asked him to let them down from the tree, so he summoned the wind and lowered the trolls softly to the ground, forty or fifty feet below. John watched them land, but as they hurried away towards the suburb, he quickly lost sight of them among the leaves.

It was the first time he was alone since he'd met them, and it felt weird. He sighed and sat down next to the bags, leaning his back against the trunk. He found himself a grub sandwich to eat, mostly just to have something to do. He would have the best bragging rights back at school. Eating worms was nothing – he ate alien grubs! Even though he sort of longed for some real food. Some lasagna or meat stew or that yummy soup Dad used to make. He really missed Dad. And home. It sort of looked like neither existed anymore, and that was... Ugh. He sighed again, like a dramatic hero reminiscencing about his past before going into battle and kicking ass.

He missed being in contact with his friends, too, and it was sort of disturbing that he didn't know what had happened to Jade or Rose at all. And Terezi's Ancestor wouldn't _really_ kill Dave, would she? This whole situation was unacceptable – they were supposed to be back on Earth, and everything was supposed to be fine. He had totally failed as a friendleader here.

Anyway, the grub sandwich wasn't horrible. Finishing it, he got up again and started walking along the branch, exploring the tree he was in. He wasn't planning to go far, but he brought the sun coat just in case. Fortunately there were lots of cool things to see in the immediate area – bugs and grubs even larger than the ones the trolls ate, and tiny little birds and lizards, and there were probably larger animals in the forest, too. He didn't see them, but he heard some pretty interesting roars. Looking around, he imagined the forest was some kind of a maze, or a Land of Mystery and Trees. At any other time he would have loved to take a stroll here, but even though it was pretty cool, he felt distracted.

John tried not to think about Terezi's Ancestor, but the more he tried not to, the more he did. He was supposed to hurry. She "can't guarantee that Dave will still be alive when you arrive." Of course, the Dolorosa and Karkat were right, she was just trying to trick him. It was probably a trap, and it _was_ better to go in prepared. He had promised not to go alone. So it made perfect sense that he should stay here and hover among the branches and look at bugs and not worry about worst-case-scenarios.

Before he knew it, though, he found himself close to the top of the tree, watching the sky in the direction of the meeting place. A faint glimmer of pink and purple and teal lit up the horizon beyond the forest, but the sun wasn't going to be up yet in a while. So, he had promised not to go meet not-Terezi. But maybe he could scout a little without being seen? Not go charging in, but sneak around a bit? He could totally do that, and it wouldn't be breaking any promises. On the contrary, he'd be gathering information, and that was a good thing!

John took off from the top of the tree, scattering purple leaves around him, and hovered above the treetops. Just a quick look-around, and then he'd go back. Definitely.

That's when he saw the dragon.


	15. Rose

The voice from the darkness made Rose's heart beat faster, whether from fear or mere adrenalin she couldn't tell. She had been discovered. Mindfang would be alerted at any moment, if she hadn't already been. The reasonable thing to do would be to go forward, to hurry and kill the stranger now, before he brought down the entire ship on her, and though there were reasons not to they seemed to turn into dust in the face of the undeniable reality that he knew that she was here. If there were any chance at all at riding this out without being recaptured, Rose had to silence the speaker _now_.

She was strangely sure on her feet despite being completely blind in the dark. When the stranger spoke again, she was already more than halfway to the voice's point of origin. "It's not like I'll be able to be of any thervice if you don't tell me why you're here," he said. "But fine."

Rose stopped in her tracks. Maybe it was the familiar passive-aggressiveness of his tone that snapped her out of it. Maybe it was the distinctly non-threatening phrasing. Maybe it was simply that it occurred to her that whoever the stranger was, for the moment he knew no more of her identity than she knew of his, and in this darkness, it could easily stay that way. It rattled her more than she wanted to admit that she had gone straight back to bloodthirst without even considering what should have been the most evident thing. She needed to be able to trust her own instincts – for what else was there to trust? – but she wasn't certain her instincts were her own any longer. The darkness was smothering. The horrorterrors in her mind reveled in it.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, making an effort to keep it steady. Focus on herself – her real self, the part of her that she had no reason to doubt. And then – the stranger. He might be an enemy, insofar that everyone in this place was an enemy, but in the present situation, he was also a potential ally. She needed that.

"Mindfang sent me, obviously," she said, putting on a suitably disdainful tone. "In case you haven't noticed, she's the one who issues commands on this ship."

The voice hummed in acknowledgment, then hesitated for a moment. "I don't think tho."

Rose twitched. "Really?" she said with a liberal heap of scorn in her voice, not giving up the bluff. "You don't think that the Marquise is in charge? I'm sure she'll be happy to hear that."

There was a soft sigh from the darkness before her. The stranger wasn't impressed. "I don't think she thent you," he elaborated unnecessarily.

 _Fuck._ Fine, then. Rose's grip on the needles tightened and she took another couple of steps closer to the voice, whose owner didn't seem to be moving at all. "And why wouldn't she?" she asked.

"You're not part of the crew." It was not a question, but a statement of fact. Strangely enough, though, the voice carried none of the haughtiness or condescension of the trolls who had talked to and about Rose earlier, and if there was any emotion there at all, it was a slight tinge of nervousness. That, at least, was reassuring, making her feel like she still had the upper hand in this encounter.

"Whatever gave you that impression?" Rose asked and took another step closer. She was very close now. The stranger was still breathing calm and slow, barely any different from when she had assumed he was asleep, and he couldn't be more than a few feet away from her current position. She knew she could have reached out and touched him if she wanted to.

It would be easy to jab a needle in his general direction and listen to him scream. The darkness around her seemed to feed into the darkness in her mind, and for a moment she was almost overcome with an urge to do it. Why hesitate? What did she have to fear? She had the power, it was right there in her mind, she could do anything she wanted to, and _no_. No, she couldn't. It wouldn't be her. If she _had_ to kill, she'd turn on the flashlight and make it clean.

"For one thing, I have been familiarized with the crew of this vessel," the voice replied to her question. "You're not one of them."

Rose had to play back his words in her mind before registering them. He was not a part of the crew? She straightened her back and looked at the darkness in his direction, as if she thought he could see her. "Ah," she said. "But I'm new. I came aboard at—" what did Mindfang call that port? "—Takraska."

"I thee." He went quiet for a moment as if he accepted her explanation. "I guess it doesn't matter. Maybe you should thtop being mysterious and do whatever it was you came down here for."

Rose snorted. Thinking about it objectively, there was a certain degree of ridiculousness to this situation. There were certainly perfectly logical and legitimate reasons for why _anyone_ would stay in pitch darkness in the engine room, but her imagination didn't supply her with any. "I believe I'm here for the exact same purpose as you are," she said.

There was a sound as if from muffled laughter, and Rose immediately regretted her statement. "Yes, I thought tho," the voice said, a hint of amusement lingering in the tone. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Rose decided to play the guessing game. "You're a slave?"

"Yes. And tho are you."

"Am I? That's a rude assumption to make."

"You made it first, and it's true for both of us." He paused. "You thaid Takraska, tho does that mean you're the pink alien girl the Marquise brought aboard?"

Rose hesitated. The stranger didn't appear to be threatening her. He still hadn't moved an inch since she first entered the engine room, and his question was merely curious, not malevolent. Besides, he was already making insightful guesses, and if indeed he was a slave, that would make him more likely to be trustworthy as an ally than anyone who owed honest loyalty to the Marquise. "That would be a somewhat accurate description," she admitted, mindful of the way she still kept the needles at ready.

"Welcome to the Arachnid, I guess," the stranger said, not reacting in any particular way to her identifying herself. "For however long you'll thtay."

Rose wondered again what he was doing here. From the position of his voice, she guessed that he was standing. Perhaps he hadn't been sleeping at all. "Is it accurate to assume that you can't see me?" she asked.

"Not in here, I can't. I'm sure you've noticed that this room is fucking dark."

"I've noticed. Does that mean I have already had the honor of seeing you, up on deck when I arrived?" She had been trying her best not to pay attention at the time, but perhaps she would still be able to put a face to the voice if reminded.

He seemed surprised by the question. "Of course not. Look, I'm sure you're in thore need of Alternian Technology and Thystems 101, but can I ask you one question first?" He made a pointed pause, awaiting her permission before continuing.

"Ask."

"Are you going to kill me?"

The question was asked in such a prosaic tone that Rose almost didn't register its sincerity. There was no fear in the stranger's voice, only a hint of wariness and a larger dose of genuine curiosity. And yet he wasn't asking if she _planned_ on killing him, or would _try_ to kill him – only if she would or would not. The psychological scenery behind such a question would have been intriguing in other circumstances, but at the moment it left her cold. Searching for an appropriate answer, however, made her realize to her own surprise and great relief that she was rather enjoying this conversation. It was making her feel almost like a person again. "No," she said, and was reasonably sure she meant it. "Not unless I truly have to."

"Killing me would thtop the ship, though," he told her. "And piss off the Marquise, but maybe that's not what you're trying to do."

"Hold that thought." There was a riddle embedded in his statement, but first Rose wanted to focus on a more pressing query. "Since we're now talking in all sincerity, I'm going to ask you a counter question. Have you alerted or are you going to alert the Marquise that I am here?"

"No. I don't have to, thince I have received no instructions regarding you. You can thtay until the Marquise inevitably recaptures you, and then..." He hesitated. "Well, yeah."

Rose pursed her lips. "I appreciate if you are trying to save my feelings by not describing my punishment in detail, but I assure you that I have no intentions of suffering it. I am not a slave, now or ever, regardless of Mindfang's opinion on the matter."

"That wasn't what I was trying to do, but okay." The stranger snorted softly. "And normally I'd go out of my way to tell you how thtupid your thtatement is. Once you're a thlave, you can't just decide that you're not a thlave any longer. It's not how these things work. But yeah, sure, you might get lucky." He didn't sound like he believed in her chances, but Rose got the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her.

She frowned. "Alright," she said. "Seeing as we have agreed not to hurt each other for the time being, I have to admit I'm itching for that Alternian Technology and Systems 101 that you promised. What is it exactly that you're doing down here in the darkness?"

There was another muffled laughter. "You really don't know, do you? That's hilarious and thad."

"I'm sure you can enlighten me."

"I'm the helmsman of this ship." He paused for a reaction, but when Rose didn't comment, he continued. "It means I'm the one that makes the ship go, like a hoofbeast pulling an ancient lowblood four-wheel device. Except I'm not pulling it with a bunch of hooves but pushing it with my mind, tho it's a lousy analogy."

Rose blinked. "Intriguing," she said slowly. If she understood it correctly, he wasn't managing the engine from here – he _was_ the engine. If nothing else, that would explain why he sounded so in tune with the ship's vibrations. "Am I to understand you are some kind of a mage slave?"

"Psionic, but yes."

"And you propel the ship from down here, using some kind of system of sensors to connect you to the outside?"

"Thensors, communications, computerized data feeds, it's all in my head. I'm pretty much the most important utility on the ship. Like I thaid, killing me would make it thtop."

Rose nodded in the darkness, feeling a peculiar mix of fascination and disgust. "I have a flashlight," she informed him. "Would it disturb you if I turned it on?"

There was a short pause. "No, that's fine."

Rose wasn't sure what she expected to see, except that it would probably not be fit for any Earth definition of sanity, and she wasn't disappointed. The troll was indeed standing up, but not leaning against the wall as she would have assumed – he was _entangled_ in it. The back wall of the room was a damp mass of stringy tentacles, and his body was halfway submerged into it, tendrils crossing his torso and almost completely enveloping his hands and legs, at many points sinking in and disappearing under his skin. There was a metal band wound around his head, attached to some kind of goggles that slowly alternated between blue and red, obscuring his eyes from view.

The scene was disturbing, but not truly surprising at this point, though the unrelenting physicality of it made Rose's stomach curl and her face tense. It was no horrorterror that held the Psionic in its grip, but alien technology doing its best to imitate one. What surprised her, however, was the fact that the Psionic's black skintight suit bore a mark she recognized. Two mustard colored vertical parallel lines joined by horizontal lines at the top and bottom. _Gemini._

Rose had never had any contact with the Gemini troll back in the game, her knowledge of him limited to the fact that he was the most computer literate of the group, and that he had refused to join in the others' effort to 'troll' Rose and her friends. But she had seen him briefly in the Furthest Ring, and, yes, the double-paired horns he shared with this slave were hard to mistake. The Psionic was older than the other had been, but not as old as this version's equivalents of Vriska and Eridan. In human terms, she'd place him in his upper teens.

Of course, the shared face and symbol didn't have to mean anything. Neither Vriska nor Eridan had been good news. But just seeing a little bit of familiarity – horrifically bound and enslaved, but not hostile – made her relax slightly. This was no coincidence. Paradox space abhorred coincidences.

"Well," she said at last, keeping a carefully casual tone. "That doesn't look comfortable."

His head didn't move, and she couldn't tell if he was looking at her in the minuscule illumination of the flashlight. Even if the goggles were transparent, which was uncertain, the way they switched colors must be distracting. She could see the corners of his mouth twist into a smile at her words, though. "Do you pity me?" he asked.

Rose shrugged. "Only in the most platonic sense, I assure you." The connotations of the word 'pity' was part of an area of troll culture she considered herself better versed in than most, thanks to her conversations with Kanaya. "Unless you would rather have me be overcome with flushed passion for living tentacle technology? I'm sure I could find it in my heart."

The Psionic made that muffled laughter again, and this time she could see his fangs flash. "It's not that bad, actually," he said. "I've been here for three perigrees, and it could have been tho much worse."

"It could?" Rose wasn't sure she wanted to picture it. She supposed she did feel bad for him, even though she was aware she wasn't in the best position herself to feel sorry for other people. The idea of spending months in a darkened room, living technology inside one's body and mind, being used like power battery – it made her feel sick.

"A lot of psionics are taken to the thpace program these days," he explained. "They thay propelling a ship at faster-than-light thpeeds hurts like hell. But driving this ship is like a piece of cake, like it doesn't even take any effort. Only when the Marquise is in a hurry, or when she wants me to coordinate the whole fleet, but even that is easy. I'd rather be here than anywhere else."

"Does 'anywhere else' include 'not being an engine slave' as an option?" Rose asked.

"Hardly. I was hatched for this, tho it would be a pretty pathetic waste to use me for anything else."

"Perhaps I should phrase myself clearer," Rose said. "Has the thought of not being a slave at all ever occurred to you as a preferable state of being?"

The Psionic hesitated for several seconds before answering. "That's thtupid," he said eventually. "It doesn't work that way. I wouldn't even know what to do without an owner. Please don't thay things like that."

Rose sighed. She wasn't quite sure what she was trying to accomplish with that line of reasoning. It was completely expected that a person in the Psionic's state would be broken enough not to consider escape. He needed more therapy than she was able to give here and now, especially with her own mental state being what it was. As long as he was willing to let her stay here, not alerting the crew, it had to be enough. "Very well," she conceded. "Is there anything at all I can do for you?"

The Psionic opened his mouth to say something, but broke off with a flinch. "Shithives."

"Is something the matter?"

"Thtand next to me," he said without explanations, not raising his voice, but with a hint of desperation that hadn't been there before. "And don't make a thound. Please."

Rose would have questioned placing herself next to him by the undulating wall of tentacles, but she recognized urgency when she heard it and suppressed the urge to argue. She even managed a decent approximation of not being startled when the tentacles swallowed her whole, wrapping around her and pulling her in until she couldn't see and couldn't speak and barely breathe and she wasn't going to panic _wasn't going to panic_ —

Somewhere beyond the curtain of living tendrils enveloping her was the sound of a door opening. Rose went very still.

"Helmsman!" It was Mindfang's voice, and she sounded angry. Rose shivered, torn between a violent negative reaction to being abruptly engulfed by nightmares and relief that the Marquise couldn't see her. She was being protected. As much as it disgusted her, this had to be better than being recaptured, had to be better than feeling Mindfang inside her mind, playing with her body as a doll, and the Psionic wasn't going to keep her like this. He was trying to help.

"Yes, Marquise." The Psionic's voice reverberating in the living tissue of the wall that had swallowed Rose as if she was literally inside of _him_ and not just a part of the system. His tone was meek and empty now, unlike a moment ago.

"I need you to confirm for me," Mindfang said, and Rose could almost hear her grinding her teeth, "that no one and nothing has left the ship since we left port."

"Confirmed, Marquise."

There was the sound of footsteps approaching, stopping what must have been right in front of the Psionic, followed by a loud slap. "Did I ever tell you how annoying that fucking lisp of yours is?"

"Yes, Marquise, you've told me. I'm thorry, but I can't help it. Does it interfere with my performance?"

"It doesn't," the Marquise growled. "But it displeases me, and I'm not in a good mood. I'd sell you in a heartbeat if you weren't the best goddamn helmsman I've ever had the pleasure of conquering." She lowered her voice, and Rose had the feeling she was leaning forward. "You'd better keep that good work up."

"I will, Marquise."

"Now, if you pick up anything at all that tries to leave the ship, you will report to me immediately, do you understand?"

"Yes, Marquise."

"Good." Mindfang snorted, and her footsteps left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

The wall of tentacles released Rose, and suddenly devoid of support she stumbled forward and fell on her knees. She was shivering uncontrollably from suppressed fear, repulsion and rage, coupled with a wide streak of irritation at feeling those emotions at all, and a strong urge to rush after Mindfang and pierce her through the back with a bolt of dark energy – because she _could_ , and then she'd never have to fear or hide or despair again. She'd be dead to the world. John wouldn't even know her next time. _NO._

"Did I hurt you?"

The Psionic's question sounded less worried and more inquiring for information, but it made Rose gather her thoughts and limbs around her, slowly sitting up straight on the floor. She had dropped the needles, and the flashlight had been somehow turned off, so the room was back to pitch blackness. Yet somehow she only had to reach out and both needles and flashlight were there, where she expected them to be. She calmly picked them up without fumbling. "No," she said. "I'm quite unhurt." She paused. "Mindfang knows I'm loose."

"Probably, yes."

"Won't she punish you if she finds out that you shielded me?"

"I guess tho."

Rose got back to her feet and brushed off her dress. It was damp and somewhat slimy. She didn't turn the flashlight back on; there was nothing here that she wanted to see any more. "I suppose thanks are in order," she said. "Thank you. I have to admit, though, I'm curious as to why you did it. Why risk yourself for me to that point?"

"I'd thtill report it if you tried to leave the ship," he said. "The Marquise gave me a direct order."

Rose nodded in the darkness. "Yes, I heard her. And I don't suppose I'd blame you considering your position. Nevertheless, you went to some trouble to conceal my current presence here. Did you have a reason for that?"

The Psionic seemed to hesitate. "For one thing," he said, "maybe I thaw no reason to thtart the bloodbath any thooner than it has to." It was only enough explanation to open up new questions.

"Bloodbath?"

"I hear the voices of the imminently deceased," he told her. "They are very loud right now, tho I know a lot of people are going to die on this ship, and thoon. One already hath."

"Oh." Rose knew better than to question prophesy, not after seeing with her own eyes how the strings that moved universes were made out of paradox and inevitability. "There's going to be carnage," she said evenly. "And I'm going to be involved?"

"I assume tho. The voices thcream around you tho I can barely hear myself think. I think death likes you."

Rose suppressed the urge to laugh. It was so far from amusing that it struck her as immensely funny if only for that reason. Quite likely, it meant she was going to break. Descend into the grimdarkness and be forever gone, despite all her protests, and naturally people would die. "I see," she said simply, and then, "I'm sorry." She closed her eyes and threw the needles across the room, listening to them clatter against the floor in the far corner. Prophesy or no, she wasn't going to go willingly.

"Don't worry about it. I guess you'll be the trigger or something. It's not like all this thcreaming ever tells me any details, tho I guess we'll just have to wait and thee what happens. But before that..."

"Yes?"

"The other reason I wanted to thave you." He lowered his voice slightly. "Did you mean it when you asked if there's anything you can do for me?"

"Of course."

"I would like it if you thtay and talk to me for a while."


	16. Dave

Dave had been alone for exactly thirteen hours, sixteen minutes and four seconds before someone finally arrived to take him away. If he hadn't been a shitty human timepiece, he might have believed it had been years. Two or three eternities of sitting naked in a cage and waiting for hell.

Screaming didn't do anything. Beating the walls until his knuckles were raw didn't do anything. Crying didn't do anything either, other than making him feel absolutely pathetic, as if that even mattered anymore. Dave was no Strider tonight, just a snot-nosed, helpless little kid named Smith or something. He wasn't going to ride away from this one on a white horse like a proper knight, because hey, guess what, he wasn't one.

But he was okay now, like a jigsaw puzzle mostly put together except for how the best pieces were eaten by a rabid dog. He was lying down, curled up on his side, staring at the bars but not really seeing them, counting the seconds ticking by with absolute precision in his mind. He had even managed to drowse some, though it was more unconsciousness than sleep, slipping in and out of a dreamless nothing that made waiting an inkling easier to bear. No one had disturbed him, not to taunt him or mess with him or even to feed him. That was fine. All he wanted was for the fucking rainbow rumpus wait to be over.

Dave made himself sit up when he heard the door in the far end of the room open. Despite lack of anything even resembling dignity, he put on his best poker face, crossed his legs and leaned against the back wall of the cage, aggressively not giving a damn. He had nothing on his body but a few bruises and his uncovered eyes were a tad more red than they should be, but he was as cool as a frozen LOFAF frog. Yeah, that was the key.

There were four trolls, one of which he recognized as a blueblood woman who had been poking him with needles yesterday, and two more who might have been the same bruiserguards who had been dragging him around earlier. The third was someone he hadn't seen before, a troll man built like a brick on steroids, with a bone white skull painted greasily over his face. Dave might have found the sight ironically amusing, but somehow he couldn't find it in him to be amused, even ironically.

"Hey," he said, stone-faced. "What took you so long?" His voice was hoarse, not from screaming, because he hadn't made a sound for six hours eleven minutes, but from simple, sharp as a razorblade, thirst. His throat was pretty much parched like a sandpaper in the desert by now, a fact that didn't make him feel any less shitty, but he didn't care about that either. He hadn't had anything to drink or eat since back in the Medium, closer to twenty-four hours ago on his own personal timeline, and sure, his sylladex had been stuffed with shitty Faygo from the nakkodiles, but that didn't do him much good now. He told himself that the service in this place could try to be a little more fucking abominable, and then maybe he'd have something to complain about.

Of course he didn't expect anyone to reply to his question, which was rhetorical anyway, and in fact they didn't. The scientist and the guards just glanced at him, like he had made a funny noise. The large stranger, though, crouched in front of the bars, practically blocking the cage with his body, and looked Dave over with narrowed eyes from behind the painted skull. His mouth split into a grin, his actual fangs spreading between the painted ones around his lips, making him look grotesque.

"You're fucking small," he said in a deceptively soft voice. " **But I hear you like to spin motherfucking tall tales.** " He didn't so much raise his voice as add a layer of disquieting emphasis, somehow piercing right through Dave's skull and making him clench his teeth hard enough to hurt. "I think we're going to have some fun, you and me. **You and motherfucking me and the xenorippers can come too.** What do you say, are we going to have fun?"

Fuck, that voice. Something about it made every hair on Dave's body stand on edge, and there was a shudder running down his spine despite his best efforts to stop it. It took all his energy to meet the troll's eyes straight on without wavering. His every instinct screamed for him to abscond the hell out of here, but perhaps they still hadn't gotten the memo that absconding places were about as scarce as warts on a princess's ass. He suddenly felt like there wasn't enough cool in two universes to deal with this. "Fuck you," he said, those being the only words he could seem to remember how to pronounce.

The troll grinned again. " **Yeah, this is gonna be motherfucking entertaining.** Don't worry, human, **we won't kill you.** If you're really nice and good and tell us what we need to know, **I may even find it in my vascular system to let them douse you with the wicked elixir.** The one that makes you forget to feel pain. **And if not.** If you don't give us any motherfucking answers. **You'll scream.** For as long as it takes. **And that could be a while.** And I'd be alright with that, too."

"Right," Dave rasped, struggling to regain his composure. "I've always want – wanted to be in the entertainment industry, and now I have my chance." That was an ironic stutter, obviously. Besides, gallows humor was ineffably ironic; Bro would approve. Dave tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry.

" **It'll be interesting to see how long you'll keep that attitude up,** " the painted troll said and nodded up at the guard. The latter pushed a button, and the bars slid upwards, opening up the side of the cage. It was still almost completely blocked by the crouching troll giant, but Dave saw the openings and didn't stop to think.

Mere adrenaline and a lifetime of enforced fighting reflexes made him dodge the long arm that reached for him. He twisted to the side of the cage and then used the same movement to catapult himself out past the large troll, curling into a roll, stiffened muscles aching with sudden effort. The door. All he needed was two seconds and he'd reach it and—

Of course that didn't happen. He didn't even get all the way past the painted troll before something slammed into his back, sending him sprawling face down on the floor. It might have been the troll giant's elbow or a guard's foot – Dave's head was swimming, and he couldn't tell. The next moment one of the guards was painfully dragging him upright by his already bruised wrists, twisting his arms behind his back until it felt like they'd be ripped off.

The scientist made an utterly annoyed sound, and Dave, panting with wasted effort, found himself inclined to agree with her. Stunts like that would never work unless everyone else involved was a complete moron, and he already knew they were professionals. This was exactly the kind of flipping off handles that had gotten him all those bruises yesterday, and he wasn't sure what he'd expected to accomplish. He thought he had decided to be cool. Going to his inevitable doom like a stoic Asian swordsmaster cutting his own stomach had to be more solid than fighting and struggling like a sucker when he was so outmatched that it wasn't even funny. Or maybe it was hilarious, and he just wasn't looking at it the right way.

"It is as you can see, Grand Highblood," the guard said apologetically, addressing the large troll.

"Indeed," the scientist added. "This alien specimen doesn't seem to understand when to yield. This is probably the root of the trouble we're all having with it. Most species and individuals would never have pushed us to this point." She sighed. "Though if you find it entertaining, Highblood, at least its stupidity is serving some purpose."

The large troll – the Grand Highblood – straightened his legs slowly, towering even over the other trolls. He closed the distance between them in one small step and almost tenderly curled an enormous hand around Dave's throat. He tilted it a bit, forcing Dave's chin up, and squeezed just hard enough to make breathing painful, but not enough to choke entirely. "You're a motherfucking miracle," he said softly. " **What secrets are you protecting so desperately?** We're going to have so much fun indeed."

"No secrets," Dave wheezed, struggling for breath. "Just a massive bucketful of—" He stopped, staring blankly at the indigo symbol across the Highblood's chest, half hidden among an intricate larger pattern. That squiggle was a zodiac sign. And now of all times did it hit him that this Grand Highblood wasn't just fucking unironically terrifying, but familiar.

Awesome. The one who had turned out to be a psychopath even as a kid. That was just straight like a stick-up-the-ass messed up. And it didn't make any difference whatsoever. Dave still couldn't do anything but struggle to suck in enough air, and his head started to feel like lead.

The scientist cleared her throat, getting the giant Gamzee's attention. "If you please, Grand Highblood..."

The Highblood snorted and let go of Dave's throat with a shrug, leaving Dave to gasp and cough in the guard's grip. "Yeah, we're on a motherfucking schedule."

Not much else was said as Dave was walked over to the operation room. It wasn't far, though it wasn't the same place as where he had been examined earlier. Dave spent the entire thirty-six second journey struggling to get his zen on, since giving a fuck was not a thing that was happening. He had the poker face back, and it would stay that way. This was _it_. There'd be no last minute rescues, not just because who the hell saves the _knight_ , but because Jade and John and Rose were absolutely not stuck on this hellplanet but frolicking back on Earth with alpha Dave – if they weren't, he'd haunt himself forever.

A door slid open, and Dave was greeted with the sight of seven trolls in white and gray uniforms, bearing symbols in different shades of blue. Some of them were already sporting surgical masks, and all of them perked a bit at the sight of their little research toy. The room itself was mostly bare, barring two small rolling tables holding the tools of the trade, several hoses and whatnots hanging from the ceiling, and of course the shining white table in the middle, complete with straps to keep the victim down.

The victim being Dave, and for a brief moment he completely forgot how to think or feel or even breathe. Unfortunately, it didn't last. The guards pushed him forward towards the table, and something inside Dave snapped, cracked like a paralytic's spine, and the rush of blood in his ears drowned out everything.

 _hell no hell no hell no_

Someone said something, but Dave couldn't hear it. All the fear and despair and faked indifference came crashing down around him, and he realized it wasn't just his own heartbeat he could hear, but the deeper beat of time, loud and clear again, as if he still had something to scratch and make it jump to his will. He knew he didn't.

 _stop it stop it stop it_

The guards adjusted their holds on him to force him down on the table, and for a fraction of a second both grips on his arms were loose enough to twist out of, ripping free with more strength than he was aware he had left. It was just the blink of an eye of freedom, but—

 _STOP_

And then

time

stopped.

Dave held his breath. A relative second passed, and then another, and none of the trolls in the room moved. The two guards were motionlessly trying to regain their grip on Dave's arms, one of them touching his bruised left wrist without quite clutching it. The Highblood had one arm outstretched, perhaps going for Dave's throat again, but never getting there. The scientists looked on with varying degrees of annoyance and amusement, but they were all as stiff as Jade's stuffed Grandpa.

The beat of time buzzed like static, caught between one moment and the next, and Dave had no idea _how_ he did this, but he did. He didn't know how long he could keep it up, either, but he was making this happen. It wasn't at all like scratching a mean beat on the timetables, mixing the timelines into a new harmony of stable loops and a minimum of dead Daves. It was like pressing the pause button on reality, as simple and as complicated as that.

He let out the breath, only slightly shaky, and twisted away from the unmoving trolls that crowded on him, slipping out between their legs. Their clothes were as stiff and immobile as their bodies. Nothing moved except Dave himself. Possibly also the air he breathed, or this would have been one fancy suicide trick.

Stumbling back to his feet, though, there was a sharp pain between his eyes that told him in no uncertain terms that the pause button was begging to be unpressed. Of course he wasn't going to be able to keep this up forever. He had to get out of here. No problem. He was Dave Strider, and he was free, and he was going to abscond like a squirrel on speed.

Shit, there was actually a possibility that he might not end up as screaming sushi by the end of the day. The thought was so unexpected after last night that he hardly knew what to make of it.

The door back to the corridor had been on its way to close, but it was still more than open enough for Dave to get out. He picked a direction at random, but he only got a few steps before the pain between his eyes assaulted him again, worse this time, making him hiss and crash arm first against the wall. There were white spots flickering before his eyes, and when they disappeared so did the pain – and so did the static noise of paused time. Instead, he could hear agitated voices behind him.

He ran.


	17. Rose

It wasn't much of a favor to grant – of course Rose would stay. Even if the Psionic hadn't specifically asked her to remain, she didn't have anywhere else to go that wouldn't increase the risk of recapture exponentially. The Psionic was able to help her for the moment – had already done so – and that was more than she could have hoped for. Besides, in all sincerity, she would rather not be alone with the darkness in her mind.

"I'll stay as long as I can," she promised. "How much time do we have?"

"Until the bloodbath? I don't know."

"Until we reach port. Bloodbath or not, I'd like to believe there is a chance to escape this ship once we reach land."

"Fine. You can believe that if you want to. It'll be about twenty-six hours unless the Marquise makes me change thpeed or course."

Rose's heart sank. "I see." She had hoped it would be shorter. It seemed frankly unlikely that Mindfang would allow her to avoid recapture for that long, even with the Psionic's assistance – once she started suspecting Rose was with him, she would come back. Rose swallowed and decided to relegate that problem to a later time. For now, she folded her arms around herself and sat down crosslegged in the darkness with her back to the tentacle wall next to the Psionic. "We have a while, then. My name is Rose Lalonde. What's yours?"

He didn't seem to have one. Or rather, as he explained, helmsmen slaves weren't allowed names. When prompted further, he admitted he might have had one as a child, but he couldn't tell her what it was. When she expressed interest, though, he elaborated that he did remember his childhood for the most part. He had grown up in a densely populated Youth Zone – a city for lowblood children – with a two-headed cyclops lusus, and he had been as free as any child except he had always known he was slated for this kind of service. It was apparently normal procedure for psychics in his hemorange. He claimed he didn't resent it, though he did express some regret that he would never know what happened to his lusus or the kids he used to know.

The Psionic had been captured – he used the word 'harvested' – more than a sweep ago, shortly after his seventh wriggling day. About half the time since had been spent in an 'induration facility', though Rose suspected 'brainwashing' would be a more correct description. The Arachnid was the second ship he'd served on as the Marquise had robbed him from the indigoblood who had first bought him.

Rose listened with fascination to his story. She suspected no one had been interested in the Psionic as a person in quite a while, and she had to admit that she was drawn to the intricacies of a psyche that was so clearly broken into a slave state – isolated and used and abused – and yet managed to preserve an intelligent and not entirely dispassionate individual with a distinctly dry sense of humor. He didn't want his freedom, but only because he literally wasn't able to imagine it. He claimed to be content, but he was clearly not. It made her regret that she didn't have what it would take to help him.

For all her interest in the matter, Rose was no real therapist. She knew better than anyone that her own mind was a dark and compromised place. And even if she had been, even if she could have coaxed him out of his protective slave mentality and make him wish to realize the person he would have been without the bonds – it wouldn't change anything. What vague hope of escape Rose entertained did not include bringing the most important slave on the ship along, even though for every passing minute she recognized the increasing guilt she would suffer for leaving him behind.

In any case, she listened and learned. The Psionic didn't mind telling her some general information about trolls either, things that she had been too preoccupied to ask about back in the game. The details of the rigid hemochromatically based caste system. The strict separation of adolescents from adult society. The galactic empire. The living technology. The slavery. It was all most useful information for trying to understand what it was she was dealing with here, though the question about identical troll individuals was initially met with some confusion.

"That thounds cool, but no, I don't think tho," the Psionic said. "I mean, I was _hatched_ with a bit of a bifurcation thing. Thee my horns and thtuff. But there's thtill only one of me."

"I admit it was a long shot," Rose said, shrugging in the darkness.

"I guess there's the highblood legend about Ancestors if you want to get into that. They thay the last person who had your exact thign was kinda exactly like you a long time ago. There's thupposed to be thome kind of mystic connection, too, but I always thought it was a load of hoofbeastshit."

"Hmm. That's interesting, actually." Rose silently filed that as the most paradoxally rational explanation yet to the phenomenon she was experiencing. Going with that theory, this could possibly be the far future on an Alternia that was never destroyed – though if that was the case it begged the question why Rose was here and not on an undestroyed Earth. Or it could be the far past. Considering that the game had created a present and a past generation of humans, Rose knew which alternative she found more likely. "I suppose you know that hoofbeastshit is a very useful substance in some endeavors?"

The Psionic snorted. "That's the worst piece of shit I've ever heard," he said, and whether or not that meant he didn't know, Rose found herself obliged to explain fertilizers.

The Psionic wanted to know about Rose, too, and it turned out that dwelling on the past was a welcome respite from the horrors of the present. She shared some choice bits of her life on Earth, enjoying making him boggle at the strangeness of human customs such as reproduction, child rearing and school. She told him about the river and the forest by her house. About the social observations about humanity that she made in school. About the expensive tutors that would get her name wrong, but ask her to remember the most useless of factoids – which she would, if only to catch them off guard.

And above all that, she couldn't avoid talking about her mother. Her mother who was always there with her ubiquitous cloud of liquor and derision and endless mindgames of sarcastic affection.

"And yet I believe I did love her, somehow," Rose admitted, not sure why she was even taking the conversation there. "She cared about me in her own way. She's dead now, of course. In fact, the planet Earth itself is dead, as well as everyone I ever knew – perhaps with the exception of three friends. We used to think we could restore it somehow, but it seems that was a childish and naïve hope."

"Of course it was. The dead don't come back to life. That would be like, an undead planet," the Psionic said wryly. "What happened to it? Was it the Alternian Empire?"

"Sadly, no. That would have made a universe of sense compared to what actually happened."

"Tho what was it? Volcanic eruptions?"

"Meteors, actually. Or, to be more precise, a meteor storm ordained by fate and unknowingly arranged by the hapless actions of myself and my three friends, the hubris of which later led us to be stranded on this planet. Though I don't expect you to understand or believe a word of that."

"Ehehe. No, but that's fine, RS. You wouldn't be very alien if you didn't thay thtrange things."

"Thank you, that's very gracious."

"Tho your home and your guardian is gone. But it would be lost to you anyway. Does it even matter if thomething exists or not if you're never going to thee it again?"

Rose shrugged in the dark. "Perhaps not. But if the very reason you will never see something again is because it does no longer exist, and especially if you are partially complicit in their demise, it is somewhat disconcerting."

"I guess."

"And yet I am still holding on to hope that those three friends of mine are still alive, and that I _will_ see them again. Please do not tell me otherwise, as I'd like to cling to my last vestige of childish foolishness."

"Yeah. That's fine. Perhaps we should officially agree not to thpeak of the future at all until it happens."

Rose smiled in spite of herself. "I can see the merit of such an arrangement in the present circumstances."

"Tho, did your mother lusus ever take you to a carnival? Because I remember mine did once, and it was the weirdest shit ever."

Rose could think of many things – the present situation included – that would be more deserving of the epithet 'weirdest shit ever' than a carnival, no matter how alien. But it was a decent enough change of topic, and led to a rather interesting discussion of cultish and recreational practices.

It was hard to tell how much time passed, but Rose never turned the flashlight back on. She found that she didn't actually mind the darkness. It had been oppressive, but now it seemed comfortable, even safe. She supposed it was a method of willful denial of present predicaments, and she did recognize the irony of herself deliberately refusing to 'see light', but she couldn't bring herself to lose the illusion of nothingness around herself and the Psionic. Perhaps the Lords of the Furthest Ring were invading her more thoroughly than she knew, but their insistent urges had abated along with the adrenaline rush. As the conversation stretched out, Rose found herself relaxing more than she probably should.

Very slowly, she succumbed to something else. At first she didn't think twice about the yawns she had to stifle, though she was aware that they had nothing to do with boredom. Her limbs were growing heavier, too. At a pause in the conversation she found herself nodding off, and only when she caught herself, jerking her head up and her back straight, did she consciously realize just how tired she was. She had to wonder how long it had been since she had slept. She was hungry and thirsty, too, but she could live with those things. However, the deceptive safety of the Psionic's engine room was getting to her, and she could no longer deny she was tired to the bone. She hadn't spent nearly as much time asleep during the game as she probably should have, and it had already been evening when she first entered, what felt like a lifetime ago.

"It's late morning," the Psionic told her when she asked about the time. "The thun is up and hot."

She'd been on the ship for more than an entire night, then. Add the time she had spent awake in the Medium, and her rest-to-activity ratio since the day before entering, and the need for sleep was perfectly explainable. That didn't mean it was acceptable. The fact that Mindfang hadn't come looking for her here yet didn't mean she wouldn't, and in fact, it only meant that the risk of her doing so now was higher than ever. Rose rubbed her eyes, wishing she could believe that the Marquise had forgotten about her or decided she was unimportant, but that was too unlikely. The way Mindfang had treated her suggested she was a valuable – a trophy to be prized – and if the Marquise was anything like Vriska she wouldn't give up easily on a treasure she had claimed. Someone could come rushing through that door at any moment, and Rose shouldn't have been getting so complacent.

She took a deep breath, stifling another yawn. "The Marquise hasn't searched for me here yet," she remarked. "Do you know why?"

"I have no idea. Maybe she's been busy. We've met up with two other ships from her fleet this night."

"But she _will_ come here." It wasn't a question.

"I thought we thaid not to thpeak of the future."

"We did." Rose conceded that point. "But perhaps it's worth speaking of the future before I fall asleep and have it snatched out right under my feet." She rose, and after a moment's hesitation went and picked up the needles from where she had thrown them. She only fumbled in the darkness for a moment before finding them, neatly and without cutting herself. The dark spot in her mind had shrunk down to manageable proportions, and she believed she would rather be armed after all.

"Asleep?" The Psionic unexpectedly focused on that.

"Yes. Despite what it might seem like, I am only human," Rose pointed out. She went back to sit next to him again, putting the needles in front of her and scratching her arms with her nails to keep alert. "Humans aren't built to stay awake indefinitely. I had the impression that the same was true for trolls."

"Oh." It sounded like it hadn't even occurred to him. Maybe it hadn't. "I don't thleep," he said. "I can't, because then the ship would go haywire. Is that why you thound like you're having respiratory issues? Because you need to thleep?"

"Yes, that would be it. But I actually believed you were asleep when I first entered this room – was that a mistaken assumption?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly paying attention to this place at the time," the Psionic admitted. "There's not a fucking lot to pay attention _to_ down here most of the time, as I know you've noticed. Doesn't mean I wasn't helming the ship."

"I see. You don't sleep." That made sense, of course. The same sort of unpleasant sense as everything else he told her. "What about food and water? Do you need those?" She suspected she already knew. No one had come to feed him, after all.

"Not really," the Psionic replied predictably. "The ship takes care of all needs for liquid and nourishment."

"And by 'the ship', I assume you mean the host of living tendrils currently attached to your body?"

"Yes. It's practical."

"As practical as only long-term tentacle bondage can be." Rose sighed. "Sadly, I don't share that dubious advantage."

The Psionic softly echoed her sigh. "I'm thorry," he said, and it sounded like he meant it, though Rose was too tired to think of what he could be sorry for. "The Marquise would probably have fed or at least watered you by now if you had thtayed where you were."

"Yes, and that would certainly outweigh any other inconveniences I would have suffered," Rose said.

"Ehehe. But if we can talk about the future again, I don't think the Marquise would have treated you all that badly. She'd break you in, but you'd probably be a respite thlave or thomething. Those are cushy. But now she's angry, tho she might take thome frustration out on you first."

"I know." It was quite matter-of-fact. "But that's assuming I'm not escaping, and also assuming we won't all die in your predicted massacre." She yawned again, then slapped her arm to try to snap out of it.

"Yeah. Assuming that." He paused, and the silence made the temptation to rest her head on her knees almost irresistible. "Hey, RS?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for talking to me. It's thtupid, but I appreciate it."

Rose shrugged. "Talking is not a chore. But you're welcome."

"You should thleep if you need to," he told her. "Nothing is thtopping you right now, but later you might not be allowed."

Rose started to protest, but she was, indeed, too much in need of sleep to think of a good argument. She didn't want to make herself vulnerable, but she was vulnerable either way, wasn't she?

"It's not like it would make any difference to the Marquise if you're awake or asleep when she finds you."

"Yes, it appears I am now far enough gone to have my mind read by an alien who have known me for a single night." She ran her fingers through her hair. Perhaps it would be worth risking a few hours of sleep here to be able to be fully awake later. It was undeniably true that she was in a less than perfect condition to defend herself – physically or mentally – in her present state. And this place was certainly no _less_ safe than trying to go somewhere else.

"There's really no need for people like us to hurt ourselves," the Psionic said with a soft chuckle. "Thleep while you can."

Rose had to agree. "I guess you're right." Closing her eyes felt like surrender, but at the same time, it was lovely. She felt – alright. She laid down her head on the hard synthetic floor and curled up on herself, and it shouldn't have felt as wonderful as it did. "Just a few hours," she mumbled, already drifting off. "Wake me up if someone is coming. Please. And... Thank you... Too."

 

The next thing she knew, she woke up to a scream.

It was a shrill, howling, agonized inhuman sound, making her blood run cold even before she was awake enough to register what was going on. There was piercing light. Something was pulling her in two directions at once, backwards by her hip and chest, and forwards by her wrists. Rose blinked and there was a troll before her. A stranger, a woman, dark blue sign and twirled horns and sharp teeth snarling. She was attempting to pull Rose away from the tentacle wall, which was trying to keep her in. There were more trolls behind her. The scream was coming from the Psionic's direction.

Rose didn't stop to think, but wretched her hands away from the stranger and pushed herself backwards. The troll woman yelped in surprise and someone behind her laughed, but even instinctively, Rose would take the tentacle engine's embrace over _that_. She fumbled for her needles, but then she saw them, too far away, kicked out of reach. She had nothing, and for some reason the tendrils weren't even closing around her.

In fact, as the inhuman scream rose in pitch, the wriggling tentacles weakened and grew limp. Rose sprang to her feet, but even as she did the trolls grabbed her again, and she had neither the weapons to fight nor the space to abscond. She kicked and twisted, but even when she hit something, her bare feet didn't do much. Turning her head to the side, she caught sight of the Psionic. He was indeed screaming, yellow liquid running in streams from under his goggles, body shaking in its bonds. Mindfang was standing before him with a half annoyed, half pleased quirk on her lips.

 _Fuck. No._ It was, for all intents and purposes, a worst-case-scenario. There were seven trolls here plus Mindfang herself, probably a deliberate overkill. Rose might have preferred to be awake for their arrival, but in the end, she doubted it would have mattered. She was fully awake now, the comfort from earlier being replaced by cold terror in the pit of her stomach. And the Marquise wasn't even inside her mind. Yet.

Two trolls held her arms stretched out; a third had a choke-hold around her neck with his forearm. The others were looking on. Yes, overkill. And yet Rose couldn't stop struggling, blood rushing furiously in her ears, while the Psionic suffered for her decision to remain in an illusion of safety with him. She felt ill.

She could end it. _What was she holding on so tight for?_

The darkness in her mind was growing again. Pulsating. It would be so easy to give in to it and lash out at the trolls, to be what the whispers from beyond told her she was always meant to be. And she wanted that power, wanted it more than anything, and it would be _so easy_. But she couldn't. If there was going to be any hope at all, she _couldn't_.

The Psionic's voice sank to a groan, and then went completely silent, his head dropping against his chest. Only then did Mindfang turn to Rose. Her face was hard and cold.

Rose's breath hitched uncontrollably. She renewed her futile efforts to break free, surprised but shamefully relieved that her mind wasn't immediately invaded. While her body still obeyed her she was still a living person. And... Her eyes went back to the Psionic.

"What exactly did you do to him?" she asked, forcing her voice to stay even. She needed to know. Or, to be more precise, she needed confirmation that he had not just been killed because of her. She might not be able to keep it together if he had.

Mindfang leaned forward to get closer to Rose's face. "Rose Lalonde," she said. "Why care about _that_ " – she glanced at the Psionic – "when you should be worrying about yourself? In fact, I would expect you to beg for your life. Did you really think this stunt of yours was going to get you anywhere? I thought you were more intelligent than that. You escaped confinement, killed one of my crew, seduced my helmsman. Did you think I would appreciate that? Did you think at all?"

Rose met the wrath in Mindfang's eyes without flinching, but that was all she was able to do. Before she found the words to reply, the Marquise was inside her, touching things that should never be touched, occupying Rose as if she had no right even to herself. Her arms and legs stopped struggling and went limp. Rose believed she would have preferred a punch in the face; the icy helplessness that filled her as she turned into a puppet on someone else's strings was almost unbearable.

"Nevermind," the Marquise said, waving her hand as a sign for her crew to let go of their captive. Rose was left standing on her own feet, a parable of unwilling obedience. "I don't want to hear your excuses. You are so lucky that you're exotic and unique, and I still _want_ you, because the execution you frankly deserve is a painful one." She snorted. "You clearly don't understand what it means that I _own_ you. Before you did this, I planned on having you broken slowly at the Cove. But no, you need to be taught hard and fast, or you'll keep causing trouble."

Rose was still meeting Mindfang's gaze straight on, but no longer because she wanted to. Useless adrenaline ran frantically in her blood and her mouth felt dry from more than thirst. She tried to retreat to that dispassionate balance she had reached last time, not caring, not feeling, but Mindfang was talking, and she felt a need to listen.

"I didn't do anything elaborate to the helmsman," she was saying with another glance in his direction. "I didn't have to. A bit of standard-issue penancine in his bloodstream, only to remind him that there is more to loyalty than following my orders to the letter. He knows his place, though, and he would never actively try to _sabotage_ anything." Rose took that for reassurance, squeezing what little comfort she could from it. Of course he wasn't dead. The ship wouldn't move without him.

" _You_ on the other hand," Mindfang continued. "You're new, full of useless hope and dumb bravado, and you think you're soooooooo clever for arming yourself and sneaking around the ship and getting the fucking helmsman to hide you. But you're not." Rose watched helplessly as her own right hand rose and wriggled in front of her face. Then, without warning, it slapped her hard across the cheek. It stung and made her jaw ache, pain breaking her attempts at detachment. "And you're going to realize that soon enough."

Mindfang cupped Rose's chin in one hand, running the fingers of her other hand over Rose's cheeks and lips. Rose would have shuddered if she had been able to. She tried again to pull away from the sensations of her body, but the stinging cheek made it difficult to detach, and the horrorterrors were there, always offering her an easy way out. Refusing was almost physically painful. She slowly managed to distance herself enough to dull the fear without actually inviting anything in, but the balance was even more precarious than before, and her breathing refused to go completely steady.

She had to accept it was over. She wasn't escaping this time. But she'd be fine. She'd be fine, and every time she repeated it she believed it less, but even so she wasn't going to allow herself to break apart. She'd live through this, and she'd remain herself.

Rose was made to come with the Marquise and the other trolls back upstairs, back to the room she had first been held in. Someone had prepared a pair of handcuffs by wrapping them with wire, making them small enough to capture Rose's slender wrists more securely. Her arms were raised above her head, cuff through the ring in the wall again. Rose's body cooperated silently.

Mindfang said something, but Rose wasn't listening. Maybe if she had, she wouldn't have been so utterly unprepared for a fist slamming into her solar plexus, knocking all air from her lungs and jolting her body back to her attention with pain spiking through her chest and guts. She wheezed, gasping for air, and if her body hadn't been suspended upright she would have doubled over. Only after an agonizing eternity of half-coughs and dry gulps did she manage to look up, realizing that the Marquise was not inside her mind any more. Her guts were aching, she was chained to the wall, and eight trolls were smirking at her, one large-fisted man apparently ready to hit her again – but Mindfang was no longer holding on to her from the inside. Relief might be inappropriate for the situation, but Rose nevertheless leaned her head back to the wall and relished a brief respite.

"Well," Mindfang said, taking the spot right in front of Rose, "Do we have your attention yet, Rose Lalonde?"

"Yes," Rose rasped, her mouth dry enough to make her voice crack. "You have my full and undivided attention, great and noble Marquise." It might not be wise to mock her, but it was the only weapon Rose had left, and this wasn't going to be pleasant either way.

Mindfang snickered. She was rattling a handful of eight-sided dice in one hand, the other hand resting on her hip. "Good," she said. "All we have to work on is the sincerity." She put a finger on Rose's forearm and ran it down to the edge of her gray dress close to the armpit. Rose had to make an effort not to squirm. "You've got such soft, alien skin," Mindfang remarked. "It would be a shame to cut it. Fortunately, there are many efficient ways to make a slave understand their mistake without breaking skin. You know, I was thinking about rolling a couple of dice to decide how to punish you, and I still might – for a warm-up. But frankly, this isn't just about punishment. It's about making you _see_ that you're a slave. So I'm—"

"I understand perfectly—"

Rose's rebuttal was interrupted by a backhanded blow across her face, hard knuckles against her temple, throwing her face to the side. Her head filled with ringing, throbbing pain, and she almost couldn't hear what the Marquise was saying next.

"—the first lesson. It's not that hard. Don't speak unless I tell you to!"

Rose nodded mutely, eyes closed and face tense. She couldn't have found her voice if she had tried to.

"Look at me," Mindfang commanded. She didn't force her – she stayed out of Rose's mind – but Rose made herself obey anyway. It wasn't a point reasonably worth risking a concussion over. The Marquise was looking down on her intently, and seemed pleased when she opened her eyes.

"Basically," the Marquise said, "I'm going to ask you to do a few things. I mean, I could take your will and make you do anything, but I'm not going to unless you give me no choice. You're going to do everything on your own, and it might not be all that pleasant for you, but the point of this exercise is that the more you struggle and protest, the longer we're going to have to keep the game going. I've arranged to have all night. Do you understand?"

Rose's jaws clenched. Of course she understood. She was no stranger to psychological mindgames.

A young woman's voice suddenly interrupted them and temporarily saved Rose from having to reply. "Marquise!" the stranger called from the direction of the door, and though Rose couldn't see her through the other trolls in the room, the voice sounded somewhat nervous and a little bit winded. "I'm sorry, but..."

"I _thought_ I said I didn't want anyone to disturb us," the Marquise growled, but the way she turned her attention away from her prisoner made Rose feel disproportionately grateful. "I hope this is important!"

"Well," the unseen crewmember said, "We weren't sure if we were going to disturb you, but... It's your kismesis, Marquise."

Mindfang frowned. "What about him?"

"He's here, and asking to see you."

"What? He's _here_?" Mindfang's face went darker, gray tinted with blue. She straightened her back and faced the messenger properly. "I can't believe the nerve of that fool," she murmured. "What the _hell_ does he think he's doing?"

"What would you have us do, Marquise?" the messenger asked. "If it was anyone else we'd have shot him down already, but..."

Mindfang sighed. "No, I'll deal with it." She made a sweeping gesture at Rose. "Rough her up a bit," she instructed the other trolls. "But don't break anything too badly. I'll be right back."

Rose blinked, torn between a vague hope that she didn't even dare put into words, and the stark knowledge that this was not even a reprieve.

She steeled herself, and the first blow barely made her whimper.


	18. Jade

Jade was used to waking up in strange places. As long as she had fallen asleep peacefully, she was usually able to pick herself right up and continue whatever it was she had been doing, barely missing a beat. Narcolepsy wasn't really a problem when you lived alone with an omnipotent dog to keep you safe, and besides, sleep was important. Opening her eyes in a dark, unfamiliar, dusty-smelling room didn't faze her the slightest, even if that hadn't been exactly where she fell asleep.

What irked her was that she couldn't remember _being_ asleep. She remembered collapsing, and now waking – and she did feel rested – but there was nothing in between. Prospit was gone and there were no dreambubbles, and it was like there was nothing left for her to dream about. It felt unnatural.

And yeah, now that she thought about it, she'd collapsed into sleep right in front of Dualscar. That was... not something she would have done if she had had any choice. So maybe the weirdest thing was that she was waking up at all. She wasn't on her island anymore; she couldn't keep doing this! But she was still alive, so it was all good for now.

Jade yawned and tried to sit up, only to find it to be difficult, since she wasn't exactly lying down. She was tangled in a fishing net and suspended a few feet above the floor next to a wall. That was a bit annoying, but it wasn't all that uncomfortable, and she definitely didn't feel like complaining seeing how much better it was than the duct tape and the railing. She shuddered at the thought. Her hands actually felt okay now, though – a little bit stiff, but they didn't hurt. She might have been asleep for a while.

The room was dark, but not pitch black, and looking around she found that it was about the same size as her bedroom back home, and cluttered with boxes and random stuff. She seemed to be alone, and for once that was a great relief.

Grunting, she wriggled herself up to not exactly sitting, but at least hanging a bit more upright in the net. It was a good, solid fishnet, probably better than the ones she'd been using for years back on her island, and an attempt to chew through it just made her teeth hurt. It also made her realize how thirsty she was, and moving made the skin on her arms and back itch uncomfortably. Ugh.

It didn't get her down, because she was determined not to get down again. Besides, there was one thing she could do – finally! – and realizing that made her smile for the first time since she arrived here. She could try to contact her friends! In fact, she had even told Dualscar that she'd talk to Rose, so she'd better get on it for all sorts of reasons.

Assuming Rose was okay. Assuming any of them were. Jade closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. Some dream intelligence from the future would have been so welcome instead of that perfectly useless dreamless nap, but at least she still had her computers. She had to squirm a bit to turn a lunchtopshoe on, but then the familiar holoscreen flicked into existence, and Jade grinned. _Please be there please be there!_

...they weren't. All three of them were gray and offline, and that was so not good in any sense whatsoever. Jade smacked her face on the wall – rather than tangling herself up more by attempting a facepalm – but that didn't help against the flood of horrible uncertainties that she was trying very hard to keep away. So they weren't online right now. Maybe they hadn't been wearing multiple computing devices like sensible people. They'd probably all lost their sylladexes, so maybe they were having completely reasonable problems with getting online. Except Rose was captured by Vriska's Ancestor and someone else was in "official custody" and... gaah! They'd better be alright, or she'd kick their asses!

Actually, as she noticed when she stopped being distracted by stupid thoughts, Dave and John had both _been_ online, even though they weren't right now. They'd been messaging her – she'd probably made them as worried by being offline as she was by them being gone now.

John's message was short, and seemed to have been sent quite a while ago.

EB: jade!  
EB: you're not there, are you?  
EB: i really hope you're ok. 

Jade adjusted the virtual keyboard to the small space she had for typing, and replied. Her stiff fingers were stupidly slow, but considering everything else, it was something she could live with.

GG: i am here, john!!!!!!  
GG: and now youre not :(  
GG: please tell me nothing happened to you!! :O  
GG: do you still have a computer?  
GG: i have my lunchtopshoes, but i havent been able to use them before now  
GG: im sort of a prisoner :/  
GG: but its okay im fine!!  
GG: im on a ship with eridans ancestor  
GG: did you know that trolls have identical ancestors??  
GG: hes a total douchebag like you can imagine but he was going to kill me and then he didnt... so i think he wont!  
GG: i think rose is with vriskas ancestor on another ship  
GG: please get back to me when you can! 

Dave's message was longer, but it was posted several hours before John's. He seemed like he had only just arrived on the planet when he wrote it.

TG: hey jade  
TG: are you there  
TG: im assuming you are  
TG: or will be in the future  
TG: so technically im addressing this to future jade at the point when she will be online  
TG: youre the witch of space  
TG: i think im lost  
TG: yeah of course im lost in a really cool way  
TG: dave strider wouldnt get lost like a little red riding hood in the forest just waiting for the big bad wolf to show up and eat her  
TG: im in an alien city  
TG: in a slimy alley like an alien mutant rat actually i think i saw an alien mutant crow  
TG: could be alternia  
TG: or not  
TG: pesterchum says the trolls dont exist so i dunno  
TG: anyway ill go find out more  
TG: dont worry im a ninja  
TG: ok  
TG: i saw trolls  
TG: its alternia alright 

A troll city. For some reason Jade didn't like the sound of that at all. Especially not since he hadn't said anything since then, and she'd been told that John or Dave was in deep trouble. She typed a reply.

GG: this is future jade speaking!  
GG: in a completely linear manner unfortunately, so i cant really speak to past dave :/  
GG: i hope you got unlost somehow  
GG: because i dont think i can give you a lot of spacey advice right now  
GG: except that yes of course its alternia!  
GG: but i dont know where you are :(  
GG: actually i can give you a bit of timey advice instead  
GG: even though you probably already know this...  
GG: this is like, a long time ago! :O  
GG: i only know because i met eridans ancestor with the gun eridan gave me in the future  
GG: and right now im kind of a prisoner on his ship :/  
GG: but im okay!!  
GG: im more worried about...  
GG: lets just say id like to hear from present dave!!!  
GG: please be ok 

While she was at it, she left a note for Rose, too.

GG: rose!!!  
GG: i dont know if youll ever get this, but...  
GG: im with eridans identical ancestor named dualscar  
GG: and he told me youre with his kismesis who is vriskas ancestor  
GG: i may have convinced him to help me get to you but im not sure...  
GG: i hope youre ok!!!!  
GG: please contact me if you can! 

Having done all that, she sighed and chewed her lip. What would she do if no one replied? Was there anything else she could do? She scrolled down her chumroll to the trolls, not really expecting anything there. Dave had said the trolls didn't exist on Pesterchum, and of course they were all gray and—

Except one of the troll handles was lit up and active. Jade scrolled back up and then down again, as if it was some kind of a bug that would disappear, but no – it was definitely active! Only one out of twelve, and it wasn't one of the trolls Jade had spoken a lot to personally, but someone was there.

Jade frowned and decided to test Dave's statement first with the trolls she knew better.

GG: kanaya?  
\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] does not exist --  
GG: karkat?  
\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] does not exist --  
GG: tavros?  
\-- adiosToreador [AT] does not exist --

Nope, Dave was right. So how come gallowsCalibrator – Terezi, and wasn't she Dave's best troll friend? – was there?

GG: ...terezi???  
GC: H3LLO  
GG: you exist!!!!  
GG: :D  
GC: 1 DO 3X1ST  
GC: SO DO YOU, 4PP4R3NTLY!  
GC: WH3R3 4R3 YOU?  
GG: im on a ship with eridans ancestor!!!  
GG: where are you??  
GC: W4IT, "4NC3STOR"?  
GC: 3XPL41N  
GG: the game threw us out in the past on your planet  
GG: and i think were all in trouble because were humans and the trolls are treating us like shit :(  
GC: HMMMM  
GC: T3LL M3 WH4T H4PP3N3D  
GG: i fell out of the sky into the ocean  
GG: and then eridans ancestor picked me up on his flying seahorse  
GG: he was really nasty and i think he was going to give me to the empress or kill me but he changed his mind and i fell asleep and now i dont know... :|  
GG: rose is with vriskas ancestor on another ship  
GG: and one of the boys is apparently a prisoner of the government! :O  
GG: can you help us??  
GC: 1 S33  
GC: M4YB3 1 C4N  
GG: ...it looks like youre the only one of our troll friends who is here :/  
GG: are you suuure youre terezi???  
GC: WHO 3LS3 WOULD 1 B3?  
GG: maybe... terezis ancestor? :?  
GC: J4DE  
GC: DO3S 1T 3V3N M4TT3R  
GG: :O  
GG: maybe not!  
GG: can you help us, oh great whoever-you-are??? :D  
GC: M4YB3!  
GC: BUT TH1S 1SNT 4 GOOD T1M3  
GC: MY GU3ST S33MS TO H4V3 4RR1V3D 34RLY  
GC: L3TS T4LK L4T3R! >:]  
GG: ok!  
\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling gardenGnostic [GG] \--

Terezi's handle flicked offline, and Jade was left staring at it. She wasn't really sure what to think. She guessed she was relieved. It definitely made her feel better to talk so someone who seemed friendly. And it did seem to be Terezi – she knew Jade's name and everything! – though Jade never knew her all that well. It was weird, though. Jade thought Terezi would be the first troll Dave would try to contact, so how could he have missed her?

Anyway, it felt empty now that all fifteen handles in her Pesterchum window were down. She supposed all she could do now was to wait and hope someone would get back to her.

Jade heard footsteps behind her and glanced around, but the door in the other end of the room was still closed. Someone was just walking past outside. She wondered what time it was, and how long Dualscar was planning on leaving her hanging – literally – and if he had really agreed to get Rose from Mindfang even though Jade had fallen asleep on him and she wasn't able to contact Rose after all. She wished she knew what he was thinking, but on the other hand she didn't look forward to talking to him again. Stupid douchebag trolls.

She sighed. Her mouth was stupidly dry and still tasting a little bit like salt. She considered banging on the wall to get someone's attention and get them to give her some water at least, but that would mean more arguing and begging. She was in a horrible position to make demands, and her left eye still felt sore and baggy, reminding her that they might just beat her up again. No, she could wait a while longer.

Time for some positive thinking. She might be thirsty and itchy and sore, but she wasn't _dying_ , and she wasn't maimed or anything, and Dualscar hadn't killed her in her sleep, so she must have convinced him that he wanted her alive after all. That was good! It seemed all three of her human friends were here on this planet, and even though it was horrible not knowing if they were alright, she had done all she could for the moment. She just had to believe in them. Her lunchtopshoes were online, and if any of them contacted her again, she'd know immediately. That was good, too! And if Terezi was really here and willing to help them after she finished her business, that was _very_ good!

Jade relaxed her shoulders and sank back against the net. Dualscar hadn't put her in that 'slave hold', either. This seemed to be a small storage room for odds and ends – apart from a lot of boxes containing who-knows-what there were a couple of richly decorated chests, some large jars filled with unknown goo, a stack of paintings, and a pile of rolled up scrolls in a corner. The room was swaying gently with the waves, and there was a soft, barely noticeable hum of engines from somewhere. Jade guessed this was above deck in one of the towers, probably the stern one, though she couldn't have said exactly why she thought that. Something about the size and shape of the room and what little she had seen of the ship from outside.

Going with that, she found herself making a pretty good estimate of the size of the entire ship. The place felt a lot less intimidating when she could visualize it. She'd been too panicked earlier to feel anything but lost, but as Dave correctly had pointed out, she was the Witch of Space, wasn't she? On that thought, she turned back to the holoscreen and opened up Echidna, trying to see if she could access the Alternian web.

There was definitely _something_ there. But a lot of it was garbled, and unlike the chat it didn't seem to be completely compatible with her software. That didn't matter. What she was looking for was maps. Maps of Alternia, anything that could tell her what the planet looked like more than 'there's an ocean', because that much was obvious.

She bounced in the net when she finally found some kind of virtual globe, grinning like she had just been handed a present. As much as Grandpa's collection of dusty old globes had been annoying to scamper into, globes and maps were exactly how she had gotten to know the Earth, and seeing a whole new world ready to be explored on her screen was nothing less than awesome.

There were coasts and continents and islands and mountains and deserts and forests and plains and cities – just like Earth except different. There didn't seem to be nations as such, but there were some kind of regional divisions, and a lot of scattered areas were designed as Youth Zones and apparently off-limits for the general populace. Interestingly, the parts of the planet covered in ocean had a lot more features than on Earth maps – there wasn't just underwater topography and currents, but quite a bit of zoning, including a few wet Youth Zones and at least two places that seemed to be underwater cities. She wished she had been able to see anything that could give her a clue where she was herself, but that was one thing she had to live without for now.

Jade wasn't sure how much time she spent pouring over the map – probably hours – but it definitely made her feel less like she was lost on an unknown planet, and more like all she lacked was her own coordinates. Pesterchum stayed uncomfortably silent, though. When Dualscar suddenly slid the door open behind her she almost jumped, quickly turning the holoscreen and keyboard – but not the computer itself – off.

"Hello, Jade," he said. She twisted her head around to face him. "Howw do you feel?"

He was showing off a lot of fangs, and the question didn't sound sincere at all, but Jade decided she didn't care. "I'm thirsty," she said, surprising even herself with the way her voice cracked. Talking just made her throat feel more dry. "Do you have anything to drink?"

He snorted. "Thirsty, are you," he said. "Landdwwellers and aliens, all the same." He closed the distance between them in a couple of steps, looking down at her, and Jade wasn't quite sure if he was being annoyed or amused. "I shouldn't reely wwaste the good stuff on you, but shore." He bent down and pulled out a bottle from one of the boxes, unscrewed the cork and handed it to Jade through the net. It was kind of hard to hold it that way, especially since Jade's fingers were still stiff and clumsy, but she wouldn't let that stop her, so she nodded a thanks and managed to put it to her mouth.

The liquid was sickly sweet and kind of gross, actually, but it was better than nothing, so Jade drank it. Dualscar took the bottle away from her before her thirst was completely quenched, but not before she felt some kind of heat flashing back and forth through her veins, making her muscles twitch. It was not pleasant. She would have much preferred water.

Dualscar chuckled at her reaction, then swiped the rest of the bottle for himself. "Did you commune with your little friend?" he asked.

Jade shook her head. "She hasn't replied," she admitted.

"So Mindfang killed her, and isn't that a disappointment." He didn't sound disappointed at all.

"No!" Jade said, feeling another shiver, perhaps from the drink. "You can't just decide that! Maybe she can't talk to me because she's tied up or something, or maybe she lost all of her stuff, but that doesn't mean she's dead!"

Dualscar shrugged. "Wwhy don't wwe ask Mindfang about that? I'm certain she'd lovve to tell you evveryfin." He started to undo the knots above and lower the net with Jade to the floor.

"What do you mean?" Jade asked, suddenly apprehensive.

"Only wwhat I told you this mornin', before you decided to convveniently pass out. I do think you can help me get a wworthwwhile face out of my kismesis." His smile was twisted.

"So are we going to try to steal Rose anyway?" Jade asked, not sure what he was getting at.

"No. I don't wwant her."

Jade's heart sank. "Then what are you going to do?"

"I don't havve to explain a shark fin to you," Dualscar said, grin fading, but he still seemed to be in a good mood. He proceeded to efficiently unwrap the fishin net from Jade, pulling her to her feet by the arm. "You and I are goin' for a ride," he told her. "It wwill be fun."

Jade wasn't sure his concept of fun was anywhere close to hers. "I know what would be fun," she said, grumbling a little bit. "If you took me to some land and just let me go."

"I'm sure that wwould be hilarious in the end," Dualscar agreed, pulling her along out of the storage room and down a staircase. "But it wwouldn't do anything for me or Spinneret, and that's—"

He was interrupted by someone loudly clearing their throat. Jade recognized the seadweller woman from last night standing at the bottom of the staircase, arms crossed on her chest. "Lord Dualscar," she said curtly. "Are you absolutely certain this is what you want to do?"

"Shell, I'm shore," Dualscar growled. "Wwe're abovve carping about the fuckin' system, and Her Imperious Condescension wwon't evver knoww anywway. This is betwween me and Mindfang only." He shoved Jade at the other troll. "Hold this for a moment."

The seadweller sighed, but Jade felt her claws dig painfully into her forearms. Jade snarled at her, but she was completely ignored, which was only slightly better than a punch in the face.

Dualscar was putting his sun coat on. He threw one at Jade, too, a simple one that he draped over her shoulders like a poncho before pulling up both of their hoods and veils. The other troll shrugged and mumbled something about it being on Dualscar's head before leaving for further downstairs, leaving Dualscar to take Jade outside.

She had to admit that she appreciated the coat. The sun was low again, light coming from somewhere behind them and slightly to the port side, which meant they must have changed direction since morning. Jade confirmed that she had indeed been in the stern tower, and that at least felt like a small victory for whatever sense of space she still possessed.

The giant white seahorse popped up from the sea on the starboard side and tilted its head questioningly at Dualscar, who gave it a pat on the snout before hoisting Jade up on its back and jumping up himself behind her. Jade had a moment to look longingly back at the deck, as if she'd be able to get free even if she did manage to tear herself loose and run across it, but then the seahorse took off and the moment was gone. Anyway, it was definitely better to go with Dualscar for now and try to stay on his good side, especially if he _was_ taking her to where Rose was.

"Are we actually going to Mindfang's ship?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, not elaborating.

"And what's the plan once we're there?" she pressed. The mount was accelerating, and Jade was happy for the half-transparent veil that took the edge out of the light glittering on the water. "I can't help you if I don't know what you're trying to do!"

"Of course you can. Just be the fuckin' stupid alien wwiggler you are."

"Hey!" Why did he keep doing that? Sometimes it seemed like he was listening to her, but he kept insulting her and acting like she was nothing. It was so infuriating. She admitted with a twist in her stomach that she still wasn't sure if he meant to kill her or not. And what if anything he intended to do with Rose, which was worse, because it'd be Jade's fault. "I'm _not_ stupid and I'm _not_ a wiggler!" she told him, hopefully with more conviction than she felt. "Have you been listening to me at all?"

Dualscar snorted and didn't reply. Jade was sorely tempted to elbow him in the stomach, but that would just be stupid. The notion of being thrown back into the sea was only marginally more appealing now after some good rest, and that was pretty much the best-case scenario if she really made him angry. She sighed and resigned herself to watch the blurry ocean around them in silence, keeping the annoyance in until she knew exactly what to aim it at.

The sunset was pretty, but even though it wasn't as tainted with the threat of immediate painful death as sunrise had been, it was still hard to enjoy properly. The future was more uncertain than ever, and though she still waited for her Pesterchum to ching, it didn't make a sound.

As the sun disappeared, Dualscar pulled his sun coat off. Jade started to pull down her own hood, but he stopped her. "Keep that on," he said, the first thing he'd said for quite a while. "Wwe're almost there." He pointed, though Jade couldn't make out anything, especially not with the veil still covering her face. Stupid lack of glasses.

Somewhat later she finally did see a group of indistinct white lights on the dark ocean surface, wobbling on the waves. A ship. No, wait, three ships. And then they got closer, and Jade could see that they weren't just ships, either, but strangely anachronistic ships with masts and sails and all, like in the cartoons. Not like Dualscar's sharply angled metal ship at all.

Dualscar made the seahorse sweep down between the ships, stopping a few meters off the port side of the middle one. There were immediately eyes on them from both nearby decks. There were shouts, and Jade was pretty sure at least some of the onlookers were aiming guns at them. Suddenly it seemed like Dualscar's plan was to get them _both_ killed. What was he thinking?

"Mindfang!" he hollered. When there was no immediate response, he yelled it again. Jade suppressed the urge to cover her ears with her hands.

Finally there was a stirring on the nearest deck, and a tall troll woman with Vriska's shade of blue plastered over her chest appeared by the railing. "What the fuck are you doing here, Orphaner?" she snarled. "I do have other things to do in my life than cater to you every single night!" She leaned closer over the railing. "As abhorrable as those purple fins of yours are, I'm busy." She said something that Jade didn't catch to a nearby crewmember and turned to go.

"Not too busy for me," Dualscar said smugly. "Wwould that fin you're busy wwith havve anything at all to do wwith that pinkish alien wwho spied on you last night?"

Mindfang turned back towards him. "What makes you ask? If this had anything to do with you, I swear I'll bite your face off."

"Sadly, no, I'm innocent of upsettin' you this time. So wwhat happened, did the alien snark at you too hashly?"

"What, are you jealous that my new slave burns better than you do?" Mindfang's annoyed expression flashed into a grin.

Jade felt like there were sparkles flying between Mindfang on the deck and Dualscar on the seahorse, and she was caught in the middle. But she understood why Dualscar had made her wear the hood – she was anonymous like this, and Mindfang didn't seem to pay her any attention. They were talking about Rose, and as much as Jade didn't like it, she wanted to hear this.

"So you did keep her," Dualscar said. "Howw typical of you, you nevver could resist something unusual and shiny."

"Why? Did you want her? Too bad you left her with me, then. She's all miiiiiiiine."

"Wwhy wwould I evver wwant something like that? I just havve it from a vvery good source that that alien is nothing but trouble."

"Look, Orphaner, the one who's being trouble to me right now is you. Don't think I can't see that glare in your eyes. But I'm _busy_. Be happy I appreciate you enough not to have you shot on the spot for disturbing me." She turned to leave again, but stopped to add, " _My_ alien is under control. How about yours?"

If Dualscar was taken aback by that, Jade didn't notice. She was busy noticing that her arms were doing things of their own accord, like giving Dualscar that elbow to the stomach she had been thinking about earlier, and then her body turned around and because he had doubled over slightly it grabbed him by the horns as if it was trying to wrestle him off the mount. It shouldn't be doing that. She hadn't meant to do that. It was like watching someone else do stuff, except from the perspective of her own eyes and... Oh no, Vriska had mind control powers, didn't she? Fuck! It was _her_ body, damn it, how rude could they possibly be!?

It didn't matter if Jade or someone else was in control, though – Dualscar was still stronger than her. He pulled her arms off him and twisted them behind her back with one hand, pushing her down on the neck of the seahorse with the other. "Fuck you Spinneret," he said and pulled the poncho sun coat off Jade's shoulders. "That was supposed to be a surprise."

"But you _were_ surprised," Mindfang noted. Jade squirmed and managed to get her face up from the seahorse's skin, proving that her body was her own again. She let out the breath she seemed to have been holding and let her shoulders slump.

"I couldn't help wonder why you brought a slave along," Mindfang continued. She did seem to be interested enough not to leave after all, assuming that was a good thing. "Then I noticed that strange alien little mind. You can't blame me for wanting to give it a poke."

Dualscar just growled.

"How do you find these things anyway? Are you saying I should be worried?" She didn't sound worried, only condescending and a little bit curious, as well as – Jade wasn't sure, but she seemed to be looking at her like a particularly delicious piece of meat. It was almost as unnerving as the mind control.

Dualscar recovered his composure enough to reply. "Maybe you should." He pulled up Jade by the hair to sit straight again, still locking her arms behind her with one hand. "This one says she's a wwitch. A fuckin' space wwitch. I'vve got half a mind to givve her to the Condesce as a present."

For some reason, Mindfang stiffened at that. "Why are you bringing her here, then?" she said.

"No glubbin' reason. Just wwanted to let you knoww that your neww toy isn't all that unique."

Mindfang's eyes narrowed. "Have fun with her at court," she said flatly.

"The Condesce would havve to showw off a royal gift in public, you knoww. Your alien wwouldn't be wworth a planktic algae in the face of that. But you don't mind, do you?"

Mindfang settled her arms on the railing and leaned forward. Jade supposed that if Dualscar was trying to get to her he was doing pretty well, but she still wasn't sure what he was aiming for. "How much?" she asked.

"Howw much wwhat?" Dualscar repeated innocently.

Mindfang sighed. "You've got some guts to show up alone like this, I'll give you that. And it'd be quite against the spirit of our relationship to shoot you down like a whale on a harpoon, even if you deserve it. So I repeat, how much do you want for that alien?"

"What?" Jade exclaimed out loud. He was going to _sell_ her? She wasn't even sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, just that it was just a completely messed up thing like everything else on this fuckass planet.

Dualscar let go of Jade's hair and patted her on the head, but spoke only to Mindfang. "You wwant her? That's precious. Wwhy should I wwant to sell her to you?"

"Why shouldn't you? The Condesce is using you, ' _Orphaner_ '. It's obvious to anyone with an eye or eight. She'd never appreciate a gift from you, no matter how rare, but _I_..." Mindfang grinned. "I wouldn't hate you if I didn't know what you're worth. And you wouldn't be here if you weren't ready to haggle. Name a price and let's get it over with – I do have things to attend to."

Dualscar made a half glubbing, half chuckling sound deep in his throat. "I lovve that look in your face wwhen I 'vve got somefin you wwant."

"What can I say?" Mindfang said with a wry smile. "You know my little weakness. As I know yours, and I assure you, taunting me like this will bite you in your bony fish ass when you least suspect it."

"I look forwward to that," Dualscar assured her.

"So name a price."

"Actually," Dualscar said slowly, and Jade didn't know what signal he gave to the seahorse but there must have been something, because they were rising like a balloon, no longer level with the deck, but looking down on it, increasing altitude by the second. "You can have her for free."

"What?" Jade said again, and this time it wasn't just confusing and messed up, but outright unbelievably conksucking bad. "What the hell are you doing?" she half yelled, struggling to get her arms free while clenching her legs around the seahorse to hold her steady. They were already above the masts, and Mindfang was yelling something below, but Jade couldn't make it out anymore. She supposed Mindfang might have the same opinion as herself about this, but that didn't help.

"I'm solvvin' a problem," Dualscar replied, his face close to her ear. "The problem bein' wwhat the shell to do wwith you, and you're right, you can help me piss off Spinneret good. There'll be red blood stainin' her ugly fakewwood deck for nights."

"Don't!" Jade said, feeling sour panic rise in her throat, but the one perfect argument that would stop him eluded her. "This is so stupid it's—"

Dualscar snorted and shoved her off the seahorse despite all her efforts to stay, as if all her strength was nothing to him – and it probably was. She kicked at him for good measure, and it seemed she connected with something, but then she was falling and she didn't care anymore.

She was going to die. She would have screamed, but for one single, brief, eternal moment she wasn't even frightened. She was in mid-air, and something in the back of her mind told her exactly how far below her the ship was, and what exact spot on the rapidly approaching deck she would land on – slam into the hard surface into a heap of blood and broken bones, and she wasn't afraid. The trolls were milling below, like parts of a pattern. She knew their positions. Mindfang herself would be splattered in blood.

And she wasn't afraid, but she didn't _want_ to die. She reached out with her stiff hands and although she knew that the fabric of the sails were two feet away from her fingertips at the closest, it didn't have to be that way. Something inside her shifted. Or maybe it was everything around her.

The next thing she knew that moment was over, and she was scared and terrified and _furious_ with Dualscar for dropping her, but her fall was broken by her arms and legs tangling in the slack sail. The fabric of the sail ripped apart by her weight, burning her skin and tearing her dress, but slowing her descent.

Seconds later she landed by Mindfang's feet, long rashes on her right arm and leg, heart racing and body aching all over, but very much alive.

Mindfang stared at her with wide eyes. "Weeeeeeeell now."


	19. John

At first it was just a white speck in the distance, but there was something about it that caught John's attention. It could have been a large bird, but it was approaching very quickly, and it would have to be a _very_ large bird, and then he realized it wasn't a bird at all. It was humongous, pearly white against the dark sky, with wind in its wake stirring the air even from afar. John had seen a lot of amazing things lately, but he still gasped when he made out the shape of the creature – batlike wings, body like a lizard, long tail, horned head – and realized what it was. A real live _dragon_. It was the most awesome thing ever, and it was heading straight towards him.

Which was not a good thing. In fact, it was pretty much a predicament. It occurred to John that maybe hovering in plain sight above the treetops was possibly not the smartest thing he could be doing, not if he was catching the attention of an animal that was easily twice the size of his own house back home and may or may not breathe fire. And yes, dragons were awesome and all, but he wouldn't count on an Alternian dragon being the nice vegetarian kind, if that was even a thing. So he should probably do something, right about now.

John summoned wind in his hands and twisted it into a hurricane, letting it loose in the dragon's direction. The purple-leaved treetops shuddered and creaked, though John didn't put all he had into it – creating a storm that felled giant trees this close to a town felt like an asshole thing to do, not to mention extremely attention-grabbing. And besides, he wasn't here to be a dragonslayer, he was here to find Dave. The wind should distract the dragon enough to make it forget about the little puny alien who was completely gone and out of sight below the canopy by the time the brief storm had passed.

Diving for the forest floor, John swerved between the trunks, a little bit deeper into the forest than he had been – though still close enough that he could easily find his way back – before landing in a pile of old, dry leaves right under a low-hanging branch. No way the dragon would be able to see him from here even if it did try to look for him, and besides, it was _huge_ , so it probably only hunted in the sky. He'd just wait here for a few minutes to be on the safe side.

While he was at it, he shrugged the sun coat over his shoulders; the sun wasn't quite up yet, so he didn't bother with the hood and gloves, but he figured he might as well wear it instead of carrying it around. Then he sat down on the ground, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip. He guessed he should have asked Karkat or the Dolorosa about Alternian wildlife. It wouldn't be easy to scout if he'd have to dodge dragons and mythical beasts every step of the way and not just look out for trolls. He could practically hear Karkat shouting at him that he was being a moron again. He really _should_ wait for them to come back. But... Ugh.

John's thoughts were interrupted by a loud _thud_ that made the ground shake, followed immediately by a gust like from an explosion, sending the dry leaves around him tumbling through the air. He twisted towards the source of the sound, finding himself wishing that it was only a friendly neighborhood jungle kangaroo or something, but no, the dragon was settling itself in between the trees, surprisingly agile even while making the space look much smaller than it was. It was already lowering its head to look at him, as if it knew exactly where he was and didn't even have to search.

John only met its gaze for a moment, but it was too much. _Way_ too much. Pain shot from his eyes like knives, and he screamed, reeling back and doubling over, covering his face with his arms. It was like he had looked into a thousand red flares at once. It hurt even more than the sunburn yesterday and all he could see was sickly red spots covering his vision and where did the dragon go? It hadn't been fooled by a little wind and it didn't need to breathe fire when it had fire in its eyes and it was going to eat him and _stupid stupid dumb_.

John struggled to get back on his feet, got as far as to his knees and tried desperately to summon the wind again. But he was blind and panicking and even though he managed to create a breeze it didn't seem to do more than ruffle his hair and send the leaves rustling again. It might not even be in the right direction, because he couldn't _see_. Somehow he wondered through the stinging pain in his eyes if he would revive inside the dragon's stomach if he was unheroically eaten by it.

Something clamped around him, but not teeth. It felt like steel pipes wrapping themselves around his body, pinning his arms to his sides and lifting him, leaving his legs to kick ineffectively at the leaves, and then he lost all contact with the ground. He could feel the wake of air as the dragon reached upwards, and then the gravity-defying feeling of flight.

The dragon was carrying him away. Why would it do that? John struggled against the things holding him – it had to be the dragon's talons – but they really _were_ like steel pipes and he couldn't do a thing, and what was going on? Maybe the dragon was bringing him as a snack for its dragon babies? Was that a thing Alternian dragons did?

John's heart was beating like a sledgehammer, and his chest was pressed together, making it a little bit hard to breathe, nevermind that he was hyperventilating. The pain in his eyes was taking the edge out of everything else, and he still couldn't see a thing. He had never realized how _scary_ it would be to be blind. How could Terezi be so cheerful all the time?

Shit. The trolls would come back and he'd be gone and they'd never even know what happened, and then Dave would be killed and Rose and Jade were still missing and he didn't have _time_ for this! What kind of a friendleader got himself caught like this anyway? So stupid!

It wasn't long before the dragon descended again, making John struggle all the more. As if responding to his squirming, the dragon suddenly and without warning opened its talons and let him go, which sent him falling handlessly for a fraction of a second – but before he'd managed to gather his wits and ride on the wind, he hit the ground, hard. His left arm and hip took most of the impact, but it still knocked all the air from his lungs.

John coughed and pushed himself up to a sitting position, wincing and desperately feeling along his left side for damage. It didn't hurt enough to be broken, probably, but the bruises would be impressive. If he could see them. If he could see anything. Where was he? Was the dragon gone? No it wasn't, he'd felt it land, but he couldn't tell where, and he spent a moment flailing about for anything at all that he could recognize.

Grass. Ground and grass and a few dry leaves, and that didn't feel like a dragon's nest, but then again, he didn't really know anything about dragon nests.

He tried to listen for the sounds of anything approaching, but apart from the ubiquitous forest sounds, he couldn't make out anything. No, that was wrong. He could hear the dragon breathing, somewhere behind him, deep animal breaths, but it wasn't moving. Not right now, at least. Maybe it was waiting for something.

And then a blunt, hard point hit him in the chest, right above his furiously beating heart. "I assume you are Egbert?" a woman's voice said.

That was the last thing John would have expected, and he practically jumped. "What?"

The stick on his chest tapped a couple of times, not violently, but hard enough to be impossible to ignore. "I asked if you are Egbert."

"Well," John said. "Yes." He realized he'd been tensing his entire body only when he started to relax. And then failed to do it properly, because there was still a dragon pretty much breathing down his neck, and he was absolutely blind and there was nothing _good_ about this at all, but... "Does that mean you're Terezi – Terezi's Ancestor, I mean?"

"That's what you called me, yes."

"So, like, is that _your_ dragon?" John asked. "Is it tame?" Maybe it hadn't been hunting him for food after all. He wasn't sure if that was something he should be happy about, but he couldn't deny that he was relieved. His eyes still ached, so he removed his glasses carefully and rubbed them with the palm of his hand.

There was a low chuckle. "Pyralspite is my lusus. I notice you're already acquainted with her pretty red eyes."

"Yeah," John said, putting his glasses back and blinking hard. It didn't help much. "I can't see," he admitted, only a little bit like a whine. "This isn't going to be permanent, is it?" He supposed that might be an insensitive thing to say – what if this Ancestor was blind too, like Terezi? What if it was all the dragon's fault? But it was already said, and fortunately she didn't seem to mind.

"Probably not," she told him. "Not unless the eyes of your species are much more sensitive than ours."

"Okay, good." That actually did make him feel better. "Wait a second, did you say 'lusus'? So it's like your dragonmom? Man, it's like _you're_ the dragon baby! That's kind of awesome, actually."

She tapped John's chest again. "Yes, but we're not here to talk about _me_. Pyralspite tells me you're a psychic of your species. Is that how you traveled here so quickly from the Acaranda wilderness?"

"You mean flying?" John said. "Yeah." He frowned. That confirmed the tracking virus, he supposed. "Does the dragon really talk to you?"

"Shut up." This time she did tap him pretty hard on his chest bone. "I said, we're not talking about me. We're talking about you. You're earlier than expected and this means you did actually hurry, which I appreciate, even though it made our meeting somewhat awkward."

"So you really didn't expect me to be here yet?"

"I was keeping a lookout, but no, I didn't expect it. I'm beginning to learn to expect the unexpected when dealing with the unknown, though. For example, you did not come alone. Where are your accomplices?"

"Um," John said slowly. "Who said I didn't come alone?"

"Please, Egbert." She sighed. "I would appreciate it if you kept to the truth, as that will make this conversation so much more comfortable for both of us. Pyralspite smelled traces of two trolls arriving in your company. Where are they?"

"Oh." John suppressed the urge to facepalm only because there was still something poking him in the chest. That'd be why he failed to hide from the dragon, too. Stupid Terezi-level sense of smell. "They said they'd go to town, or all the way to the city, maybe. I'm not sure. They wanted to see if they could find some information."

"And when will they be back?"

"Later today." John hesitated. "But it doesn't matter, does it? Because it's me you want to talk to."

"True. Right now I'm happy to have the opportunity to talk to you alone."

John took a deep breath. "So," he said. "Here I am." He wasn't exactly prepared to have this encounter right now, but it was already happening, and it wasn't like he had broken any promises when there had been a giant dragon kidnapping him and all. He might as well make the best of the situation, and that included the most important business. "Where's Dave?"

"He's not here."

John leaned forward, but the point on his chest pushed him back. "But you said in the chat—"

"I said he was with me then, and he was. That doesn't mean he's present. Here and now it's just you and me and Pyralspite."

Maybe that was supposed to be threatening, but it just made John angry. He pushed the thing on his chest away – some kind of polished staff? – and started to get to his feet. "So where is he?" he demanded.

The staff swiftly snapped away from his hand and dealt a hard blow on his left temple. John didn't expect that at all. He let out a choked cry, both from surprise and pain, and fell back to his knees, instinctively raising his hands to protect his head from more blows. "What are you doing?" he blurted. There was a diffuse breeze rising around him almost immediately, but damn, how was he supposed to defend himself if he couldn't see?

"You shouldn't move," the woman told him calmly. "See, Pyralspite is right behind you, and she'd be quite happy to crush you into sweet candy red pulp if you threaten me. Or, for that matter, if I decide to ask her to. Is that clear?"

"Um." She sounded so casual, like she was talking about the weather or something. John knew perfectly well how murderhappy trolls were, especially after talking to the Signless Karkat and the Dolorosa, but it was still chilling. "Alright." He blinked again, and maybe his eyes were getting better, because there were blurry fields of color sitting behind the painful red spots – purple above, and then black and a little bit of teal and red in the direction of her voice. And though it was hard to tell with the entire side of his head throbbing from the blow, his eyes didn't seem to sting quite as bad anymore. That was something, he guessed.

"Good," the blurry black shape said. "Now, as a matter of fact, I hope we can settle this without resorting to anything like that." She took the staff away from his chest and tapped it on the ground in front of his knees instead. "I think you probably know by now that as an illegal alien being on Alternia, you have no rights whatsoever, and your best chance for staying alive would have been to hide and stay hidden. The fact that you ignored common sense and came here when I simply asked you to tells me that whatever exactly Dave is to you, you hold him in very high regard. It's absolutely fascinating."

John scowled at her. "Yes, it's the human disease called friendship. Bluh bluh. So where is he?"

"If I told you that now, you'd try to leave immediately. Then I'd be forced to kill you, and neither of us would get what we wanted."

That made sort of sense, in a screwed-up way. "So what is it you want?"

"I told you before. I want to know the truth about you and your group of human aliens invading our planet. I can smell something fishy about the whole thing, and I want to know what is actually going on." She paused, and John thought he saw her move slightly. "You see, Egbert, I'm not saying I won't kill you if you do something stupid, like try to attack me or escape. But you'll _want_ to stay and tell me everything, because assuming that you answer all my questions truthfully and without omissions, I promise that I will let you know exactly where to find Dave. What do you say?"

It wasn't what John had hoped for, but it did sound like an okay deal. Then again, murderhappy trolls. "Can you promise that he's alive, too?"

"He should be, yes."

John sighed. That'd be all the reassurance he got. "Alright," he said, "ask away. It's not like I have anything to hide! I mean, the whole Sburb thing might be a bit difficult to believe, but—"

"I'll be the judge of that." He saw some vague movement of the mostly black shape he supposed was her, and heard her tap the staff a couple of times on the ground. "I'd like you to start by telling me your full name and title."

John straightened his back slightly, trying not to move too much. He should introduce himself properly. "I'm John," he said, and he would have reached out his hand for her to shake if he hadn't been sitting on the ground by her feet, and also told not to move. "John Egbert. And my title is Heir of Breath, which means I fly and create storms and stuff. Hi."

"Very good, John," Terezi's Ancestor said. "For the record, I'm known as Redglare."

"Really? That sounds—" He stopped himself.

"Sounds like what?"

"Well..." John bit his lip. "I was going to say it sounds made up, but Vriska's Ancestor is named 'Spinneret Mindfang', and that's apparently a real name, so I guess a lot of trolls in this time period are named like that. No offence."

"Of course not. That's an interesting observation. I'm going to want you to tell me more about this Vriska, and what exactly you think you know about troll Ancestor lore, but there are many things I need to know, and we should get ourselves more comfortable." She seemed to shrink – perhaps she was bending down – and touched John's arm. "Get up, and we'll get indoors before the morning gets too hot."

John didn't protest being led away, across grass and towards something that might be a darker spot against gray and purple. Something large and bright moved alongside them, and John realized that must be the dragon. He felt nervous in ways he couldn't quite articulate, but despite the casual death threats Redglare only seemed to want to talk, so it should be alright.

"You've talked to Dave, haven't you?" John asked as they walked. "How much did he tell you about Sburb?"

"That's beside the point, John," Redglare said, dismissing the question. "I want to know the truth from _you_."

She led him by the arm away from the slanting light outside and into some dark room that smelled damp and murky and old. The darkness actually felt good on John's eyes, even though it made him more blind again. Redglare placed him in a rickety chair and told him to start by telling her exactly how he arrived on Alternia.

"It was an accident," John began. "And it's a long story and I don't even understand it all myself, but we were playing this game with really high stakes, and then we tried to cheat our way out of it. Which in hindsight was probably not such a good idea, but it seemed like there wasn't really any way left to _win_ , so we sort of gambled on crashing the whole thing. But instead of getting back home, we ended up here. At least I and Dave did."

Redglare listened. She didn't make any comments about plausibility or lack thereof, which was nice, but neither did she indicate that she believed him. She simply let him tell her his version of the truth without interrupting or putting words into his mouth. She did, however, keep asking just the right questions to unravel any inconsistencies or unclear points. It made it more difficult to describe the adventure to her than to the Signless Karkat and the Dolorosa, because Karkat had been totally enthusiastic about it, and the Dolorosa hadn't said much at all – but Redglare was callously combing him for information. Glossing over or simplifying parts wasn't allowed, and simply made her ask again, more pointedly – though sometimes he just didn't _know_ what had been the cause or effect or whatever had been going on, really, and had to tell her so.

Even when the storytelling dragged on and John started to get impatient, there was no hurrying it up. Whatever the "truth" she wanted was, it involved knowing a lot of details about meteors and paradoxes and chesspiece villains. He told her about Dave and Jade and Rose and their Lands and consorts and sprites and about the twelve trolls and the weird way the two sessions were tied together. But most of all he told her about his own adventure, about getting into the game first, and about Terezi getting him killed in another reality, and Karkat becoming his friend backwards, and Vriska talking to him a lot and getting him killed so he could become God Tier, and what that meant, and about the weird plan they had all hatched together to break the game.

While talking, his eyesight started to return properly, and his eyes finally more or less stopped aching. He'd never been so happy about being able to see in his life, even if the inside of a dusky old shed wasn't much to look at. Redglare was brandishing a dragonheaded red-and-white staff and looked pretty much like he expected her to, pointy red shades and all. She was older than Terezi, but still young, not much older than the Signless Karkat.

The one thing John felt reluctant to tell her about was Karkat's blood color, and that was only because the Signless one was here, now, and he could be in real trouble if John told anyone. She asked – of course she did – but he tried to pass it off as one of the things he didn't know. And actually, Karkat had never _shown_ him back in the Medium, so he didn't really know, did he?

"I bet it was an unusual shade," Redglare remarked. "The rest of the trolls you describe were all across the hemospectrum, so what need could he have to remain hemonymous?"

The question was probably rhetoric, and John quickly continued telling her about Karkat yelling at him for prototyping Jade's sprite with Becquerel, although it hadn't been his fault at all, and apparently had been inevitable anyway.

When he finally reached the end of the story, he had to mention that the two trolls he had come with him were Kanaya and Karkat's Ancestors. Redglare had only one question about that.

"Why did they believe you?"

"Well," John said, fumbling for the answer that didn't involve blood colors. He was starting to feel really tired, to the point where he almost wished he'd taken the Dolorosa's advice and gotten some sleep, though that was pretty stupid to think about at this point. "Karkat's Ancestor is kind of a visionary. I mean, literally, he's got visions about different worlds and stuff. So I guess it wasn't so hard for him to believe. And also, he says he hates it when people get hurt and killed just for being who they are, so he wanted to help, and Kanaya's Ancestor is close to him, so she went along. They're both very nice people."

Redglare hummed. "I see." She rested her hands on the dragonhead on her staff and turned her face down, like she was thinking. When she didn't say anything else, and silence started to stretch out, John fidgeted. Did that mean the story was over? Was she satisfied?

"Do _you_ believe me?" he asked.

She turned her face towards him again. "I believe you believe you're telling the truth, or I wouldn't have let you speak for as long as you have. Your smell almost entirely like sincere honesty in a way that is unusual and refreshing, or it would be if it wasn't tainted with the ludicrous. Do you have any way to conclusively prove your claims?"

John grimaced. "No," he admitted.

"Exactly. However, your story matches Dave's, and he believed he was telling the truth too, although he seemed to be less sure of where and when he was than you are. I have also had another indication that there are indeed four of you humans on Alternia, and that—"

"You know something about Rose and Jade?" John blurted, interrupting her.

"Let me finish!" She scowled at him, showing her teeth in an annoyed grimace. "See, it was easy to dismiss Dave as long as he was alone. It's not as easy to dismiss any longer. The way I see it, the alternatives I have before me is that you're brainwashed, hallucinating, or telling the truth. The first begs the question of motive, and the second is somewhat cast into doubt by the quality of details you have provided, but both are possible. However, it strikes me that although your account and Dave's match, they're not identical. They reflect the fact that you had different experiences and different revelations during your 'game'. A brainwashing or an induced hallucination would have had to be impossibly advanced to account for that kind of individuality on top of the complicated shenanigans you describe. The level of sheer inanity and nonsense required to even think of such a scheme, when there's no apparent gain to be had that wouldn't also be had from a simpler story..." She sighed. "With the present evidence, I have to conclude that events did happen as you describe them, if only because the alternative is even _less_ likely."

"Okay then," John said. "Thanks, I guess."

"I'm afraid my misjudgment has caused Dave to suffer unjustly," Redglare continued, and John tensed, frowning at her. "Not that anyone would in any way blame me, and in fact I'm sure some of my superiors are happy about it, but it's still somewhat embarrassing. I'm glad that I chose to continue this investigation in private. It's been very illuminating, and I feel I have something to think about."

John crossed his arms over his chest. "Right," he said. "Are you going to tell me where Dave is now? Because that that was our deal."

"Of course. I always honor a deal." She smiled, but for some reason John didn't feel very reassured by that. Too many shark teeth. "Sadly, you won't be able to reach him. You see, John, Dave is no longer on Alternian soil."

"What?" That felt like a big lump of ice in John's stomach. "Then where is he?"

"He's on the Imperial MedSat. It's one of the major space stations in orbit around the planet, and serves as our largest medical research facility and hospitalification place. It's got a prestige filled branch of xenologists. As for Dave, he was scheduled to be tortured by lucid vivisection for his refusal to give truthful testimony in the initial interrogation." She shrugged.

It took a moment for John to parse through the words to what she actually was saying, but when he did, his ice-filled stomach seemed to tie itself into a knot. "No," he breathed. "No way, you couldn't have..." The Dolorosa and Karkat had told him that his friends would be dead _at best_ , but he hadn't stopped to think about what it _meant_. Not until now. "That's insane!" he yelled, rising from the chair and not even sure what he was going to do except he had to make her tell him how to get to that space station, whatever it took, and—

He didn't get that far. There was a crash behind him, and something heavy slammed into him from behind, knocking him facedown on the dirt floor. The next thing he knew his chest hurt like fire, and he knew the steel pipe-ish feeling of the dragon's talons pressing him down – no, _crushing_ him against the ground. Part of him recognized the daylight pooling on the floor as a sign that the dragon had broken right through the half-rotten plank wall of the shed, but the better part of him was busy struggling to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck. He couldn't fill his lungs and he couldn't even feel the air, but he was too furious to be afraid. He had to get up. Dave being treated like that was just not... not...

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about what's happening to Dave," Redglare was saying, her voice strangely distant. "However, no matter the reason, unregistered aliens on Alternia _are_ a crime, and you need to be culled. And for the record, 'god tier', your death is just."

There was a sickening crunch, and then there was nothing.


	20. Dave

Dave knew exactly where he was going. Straight for the promised land called _out of fucking sight_. He was gone down an adjoining corridor before the trolls he had left behind ever thought to open the door and look down the hall. He had disappeared into thin air in front of their eyes, so all he had to do was to _stay_ a waft of thin air and this would be a breeze. Pun courtesy of Imaginary John Egbert.

The corridor was empty, ready to take him anywhere, and anywhere was fine as long as it was _away_. Dave ran, but three seconds later there was a sound of surprise from the far end of the corridor, a troll man in the scientist uniform having just emerged from somewhere. Dave's heart skipped a beat, but fuck if he was going down that easily. He didn't stop to stare the troll down, but ducked into another intersection, and then the next one, running as far as he could go before a door started opening beside him, making him change directions again, finding another way. He was breathless and lightheaded and a fucking ninja turtle and his bare feet didn't make a sound against the metal floors.

Dave was dancing with adrenaline and vaguely felt panic, and of course he was fast. He was a flash of lightning, ducking out of the way of approaching footsteps and dodging opening doors before most trolls caught a glimpse of him – and the few who did never saw enough to chase him down. But the trolls were all over the place, almost as if this was an actual research institution where people worked and shit. Another door slid open in front of him to his left, and this time the only way to go was backing down into a corridor that ended abruptly – a blind alley, a cul de sac with only one of those nondescript sliding doors on one side. And then someone was most definitely coming this way, and yeah, _out of the sight_ was this fabulous kingdom full of rainbow unicorns except when it wasn't. There was a large metal pipe or something stretching from the floor to the ceiling near the back wall, and Dave ended up there, ducking behind the pipe as desperate for cover as a junkie for a fix.

This was chill and everything was under control and that troll was coming down the dead end after him. Okay, so maybe not under control. A confrontation face to face would be like Dave versus Troll Goliath, and no matter how he twisted it, he was unarmed and alone and backed into a corner. Fuck. Dave held his breath, heart beating like a madman's drum, and pressed his back against the metal wall hard enough to leave marks on his skin.

The door on the other side of the pipe slid open, then closed again behind the troll, and only then did Dave breathe again. Yeah, everything was totally fine. Of course he hadn't been followed. He was doing well here, making progress towards the fabled goal of spending the day in one piece. So far so good.

He froze again as a toneless voice cracked through some unseen speaker system. " _Attention all personnel. There is a grade three security breach. The newtype troll-like specimen known as human has disappeared from confinement. It is presumed to be a psychic of its species. Live recapture preferred. Repeat: There is a..._ "

Dave would have tensed if his entire body hadn't already been as taut as a garrote in use. This was just awesome. They were calling for him on the speakers like he was a lost child in the supermarket. Obviously he should go ahead and shit himself because hey, he wasn't actually invisible, and it wasn't like anyone was giving up looking for him just because he had managed a neat stage magician disappearing trick once. A trick he was not about to repeat, not as long as the time shit in his head was just buzzing at him, telling him all friendly-like that he had been loose for three minutes thirty seconds beep.

But this also meant they didn't know exactly where he was.

That last part would have been very reassuring if Dave had any fucking clue where he was himself. Or where to go from here. Even if he hadn't just been running at random like a dodgeball player on crack, he'd been blindfolded when they took him inside. He had no idea where the exit was. He hadn't even seen any windows. All the corridors looked pretty much the same, bare and empty, dull metal walls, sliding doors, intersections at odd angles. As far as he could tell, this place was a _maze_ , and not just in the this-is-a-huge-building-and-I'm-lost sense – fuck that, huge buildings were inherently cool – but in the I'm-in-a-Greek-myth-and-someone-forgot-to-give-me-a-spool-of-thread sense. Only there was no need to go looking for the Minotaur, because the place was _teeming_ with horned creatures who wanted to tear him apart.

And yeah, this pipe was shitty cover. Staying here would be an even shittier plan than rushing through the corridors like a naked baboon and hoping to be lucky enough not to get cornered by a yellow-eyed mob. A less shitty plan would be welcomed with snuggles and kisses.

He was still pressed against the wall, unwilling to move, feeling the faint vibrations of some kind of machinery behind it. If melting into walls was an option, he'd take it. He closed his eyes and tried to think. There were trolls passing by over at the intersection, and they had to know he was somewhere close by. It was only a matter of time before they actively started combing the area for him. Well, he was the dude of time, so obviously _that_ made him safe.

Damn. He was shaking like a fucking piano string. That was uncool enough that it had to stop immediately, and Dave wasted several seconds forcing his muscles to calm down. He _was_ getting out of this. Compared to five minutes ago, he was ruling this place. All he needed was a slightly less shitty plan.

Right. A genius strategist kind of plan. He was now officially Napoleon Bonaparte of alien jailbreaking. Dave worked up some moisture in his mouth and set his face into a deliberate non-expression. No panicking here.

He needed a weapon to defend himself. He needed water, preferably before this way rude thirst and weird lightheadedness turned into something worse. He needed clothes, and not just because flashing his junk at every bitch in the universe was not quite his style, but because it would make him less likely to stand out like a peach duckling among angry swans. Add shades and he'd be prim as a primadonna, and then all he needed was a map to an unlocked back door and then he'd... run away and live the rest of his life like a wise old hermit in the mountains and forget about doomed timelines or being in one. Yeah, that sounded about right.

Or, hell, die fighting instead of sliced open on a table. That'd be fine, too.

He wished briefly that consulting Terezi had been a thing that was possible. She had tended to know what choices to make for the least amount of painful death. She'd laugh at him for wanting to rely on her, though. And trying to picture her face all he could see was Redglare, and _fuck_. Maybe he didn't want to talk to Terezi after all.

He wanted to talk to Rose, or Jade, or John. He wasn't sure what he'd say to them, but maybe one word would be enough. A hint of a smile threatened to erupt at the corner of his mouth. "TG: geronimo"

The nearby door opened again, and Dave decided on a plan in that split second. He waited for footsteps departing – two steps, three – and the sound of the door closing automatically, before throwing himself around the pipe, catching a glimpse of the back of a troll woman's gray uniform walking away before soundlessly slipping inside the room she had left.

The door closed shut behind him and Dave was almost taken aback that he had been right. Sure, he had heard no voices or anything from this room when standing next to it – one troll had entered, and then one troll had departed. That was as close to 'probably empty' as it was going to be. He had still half expected to have to improvise something and fight for his life. But no, this was as abandoned as an urban middle school on Monday morning 4 AM, and Dave found his shoulders relax slightly as a bit of cool slipped back into place.

It was a small office. Like any office in the universe, the walls were lined with shelves filled with books and folders and piles of prints and fucking palm sized larvae, because nothing says 'this is an office' like having hugeass immature insects scattered around. Nice. The desk was cluttered with more of the same, as well as a large _something_ that looked rather like a flat and headless chunk of slug. Perfectly normal as far as alien offices went. So were the animal doodles that were drawn on a lot of the empty wall space. Moving on.

There was a door leading to another room from the right hand wall. It was a hinged one, slightly ajar, and Dave took a peek inside only to find to his relief that it was empty too, and even more inviting than the office. It was someone's living space. A bedroom even, going by the slimy bathtub that took up a good part of the space. He was pretty sure someone had told him at some point that trolls liked to sleep in slime.

No time to think too much about it. Definitely not thinking about why there would be bedrooms hidden behind offices in a research lab. Whatever. Anyway, the room was about as tidy as the Strider apartment back in Houston, which was way approved and also meant that there were useful shit strewn about.

Seeing how he was not a purehearted derpbert, he should probably have felt a lot more pervy than he did looking through a woman's laundry. Especially with the intention of wearing it. Of course, wearing drag for ironic purposes was always chill. He didn't find anything that seemed obviously clean – shit, the lady was almost as big a slob as Bro – but there were both a tossed aside black and green bodysuit and an extra uniform crumbled in a corner. He picked the uniform – slim light gray pants, a plain white shirt and a matching gray jacket with a faintly familiar squiggly green symbol over the heart. Good enough, and fuck alien women's underwear, commando was the one true way. The pants were too tight and too long, but he was too cool to care.

He was pulling the white shirt over his head when he noticed something sticking out of a box near the far end of the slimetub. Squirming into the shirt, he slid across the floor on his knees for the few feet necessary to confirm what he was seeing, and then he had to resist the urge to break into a severely uncool grin. He felt alive.

Bottles of water. Or if it wasn't water, it was damn close to it. Hell, it could have looked like unlabeled apple juice, and he would have drunk it without complaints. He did sniff it quickly after opening one bottle, but it smelled okay, and it tasted like fucking clouds and angel choirs. Dave chugged it in seconds, then put the empty bottle down, wondering again if perhaps he'd make it after all. That would be something.

Clothes, check. Operation be a human kid and not a naked lab monkey was officially accomplished. He pulled the jacket over his shoulders to finish it up. Liquid, check. Operation don't faint from dehydration was good, too. Weapons, then.

This room seemed to suffer a bitter lack of bladed weapons. Not a single shitty sword hidden in the small pile of cat plushies, stuffed behind the slimetub, or stuck in the ceiling light. Okay, so the lady was not as sloppy as Bro after all. He could respect that, but he still needed a weapon.

Dave eyed the door to the corridor suspiciously as he went back to the office. It was closed and didn't seem to eye him back, so he went to rummage through the desk drawers. No knives here either, but there were a lot of unidentifiable knicknacks, documents, and a bunch of drawings that weren't actually shitty at all. And also pens. Dave supposed pens were almost as dangerous as knitting needles, so he grabbed a couple of the sharpest ones and put them in a pocket like a good office worker. Okay, so that was pretty much the shittiest excuse for a weapon ever. He contemplated breaking a leg off the cheap-looking dining room-ish chair and use that – it would be pretty much like all the other pieces of broken shit he'd been wielding – but he never got that far.

The innocent-looking door in front of him opened with a whizz, and Dave could feel his blood turn to sub-zero temperatures in an instant. He should have been out of here sooner. He acted on instinct, ducking behind the desk drawers, but there was no way in hell he hadn't been seen, not at this angle. He had caught a glimpse of the woman – same green squiggle on her uniform as on the one he was wearing himself – and there was no avoiding it. He had to take her on. Fuck, he could take down one single office lady in an enclosed space. With a goddamn pen if he had to. If he was backed into a corner, then so was she.

There was a soft, excited "Oh m'god" from the other side of the room, and the next moment she was moving, but not around the desk as Dave was expecting, but suddenly crouching _on top_ of the desk. Dave spun around and found himself looking up at her, all messy long hair and pointy horns and that smile was _not_ good news. Dave snarled and jabbed the sharp steel point of the first pen into the back of her hand, that being the only part of her he could reach while also getting himself out of the way from being jumped upon. She yelped, and it gave him the second he needed to get back to his feet, grab the second pen, and lunge for her.

She didn't even dodge. She _pounced_ , like an animal, swatting his hands to the side and landing heavily on his chest, making him topple backwards, falling halfway through the doorway to the bedroom and slamming his back on the floor with a groan. He gasped for air, and the next thing he knew she was straddling his chest, holding his arms down to the floor by the wrists. The grip made a cold shiver of panic run down his spine. This wasn't working. This was like the rusty old bicycle found in a river after ten years kind of not working.

The troll looked like she was about to rip his throat out with her fangs, and he almost hoped she would.

And then she didn't. "Wow," she said instead. "You're so _cute_!" Her voice was like a sparkly pink rainbow slashed with a bloodthirsty lion. Dave blinked.

"What."

"I mean—" She hesitated and tilted her head slightly. "I'm sorry." Dave had never imagined a troll would look sheepish, especially not when she had just put him in an extremely compromising position, but there it was. It didn't make any sense, so it was obviously ironical. She was messing with him, and he needed that about as badly as he needed a bout of smallpox. "You're that escaped newtype alien, aren't you?"

"Nope," Dave said, trying to pretend that her fingers weren't digging into the collection of bruises he was already sporting around his wrists. At least the jacket cushioned it a bit. "I'm an oldtype Alternian werecoyote."

She giggled. It was a weird, warm sound, but Dave didn't like it. She was about the same age as Redglare, he realized – early in her twenties – and now that he was getting a good look at her, there was something oddly familiar about her face. And her symbol – fuck, that wasn't a zodiac sign too, was it? No, he absolutely didn't care.

"Hey," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen an alien that didn't look pawsitively miserable before."

"Wrong. I'm the king of miserable. It's me."

She giggled again. "But you're funny and cute and you're _talking_ to me! None of the other ones ever do, and sometimes I think..." She hesitated with a grimace. "Anyway, you're like a furocious kitten and you even tried to pounce me!"

"Meow," Dave said flatly. At least he'd never had a problem going with nonsense. He had no idea what she was even on about, but he didn't want to know. It'd be something painful. She was sitting on him, so he bet she could feel the way his heart was pounding away and all his deadpan was completely wasted, but it was better than shutting up. Keep her talking, as long as she talked she wasn't doing anything worse.

But then she smiled and completely unexpectedly let go of him, getting off his chest and standing up next to him like that she was an old friend horsing around and not at all a cat playing with a helpless baby bird. "There. I hope I didn't scare you too much."

Dave let a breath out with a hiss and scrambled backwards, stumbling to his feet against the corner between the wall and the slimy sleeptub. "You're not serious." He clutched the spare pen tightly in his hand, hoping that with his back against the wall she wouldn't be able to topple him again. "I'm not playing your fucked up game."

She sighed and pursed her lips in a whole face frown. "This isn't a game, stupid. Did I hurt you? Because I didn't mean to."

There'd be a few new bruises from his fall backwards, but nothing serious. She hurt him less than just about anyone else so far. But still. "Did I hurt _you_? Because I definitely meant to."

She glanced at the back of her hand where he had pricked her with the pen, then licked up the little patch of green blood that had pooled there. "Not really," she said. "Good try, though. Look, I understand that you're scared and lost and all, but I don't actually mean you any harm."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you're one of the people who work here. You know, one of the people who got it into their heads that the safety of the empire depends on putting a guy's innards on display. You can't blame me for wanting to get out of here." He glanced around her at the way out to the corridor.

She seemed to have caught his glance. "No, I don't blame you at all. And if you really want to go running through the station – I'm not going to stop you." She stepped aside, no longer blocking the way, and Dave's face might have twitched slightly at that. He didn't move, and didn't take his eyes off her.

"But," she continued, still frowning, "it's not actually pawsible to escape like that." Dave would have expected her to smirk or something, seeing how this was textbook mocking, but she just looked sad. "You'd never _get_ anywhere. And the guards are actually hunting for you, and they'd catch your tail in no time. It'd be just like a white squeekbeast in an amusement console, getting massacred by the minidrone. And then you'd get back to vivisection anyway!"

Dave took a deep breath. She was stringing him on. Obviously. Either that or he had accidentally stumbled upon a troll that wasn't an evil sadist, like finding a bunny in a pile of smuppets, and yeah. How likely was that? But she was also right. He was still basically unarmed, still not actually invisible, and a moment ago he had failed to hold his own against a random secretary with a cat fetish. And she wasn't using any weapons either. "So do you have any better suggestions?" he found himself asking.

"I don't know," she said, biting her lower lip with a fang. "I mean, I _do_ work here, but I've only been here for a few purrigrees, and all I do is documentation, and no one cares about my opinions. But I kind of think we're doing some pretty horrible things to people here." She turned her head down, as if that was an embarrassing thing to say.

She was either a very good actor or she actually meant it. And when it got down to it, Dave didn't have a fucking thing to lose, did he? He swallowed. "Are you offering to help?" he asked slowly, definitely not flipping off any hopeful handles.

"I don't know!" she said again. "I mean. I can try!"

"Really."

"You know," she said, not really looking at his eyes anymore, "I handled that report about you yesterday. And I was thinking that even if you made all that stuff about time traveling and universe frogs and everything up, that's some _fantastic_ imagination, and just for that you'd suffer even more than most specimens. It's not fair at all. But it's just the way things are, I thought. And I never expected you to show up in _my own quarters_! Especially not being like a pouncy cute furocious kitten." She smiled. "And wearing my own uniform, too!"

"Yeah, I look good in drag," Dave said, getting away from the point.

"You do! You should have your own sign, though." She looked very thoughtful. "Anyway. Purrhaps I can smuggle you away from here somehow?"

Dave found himself at a loss for words for exactly 5.19 seconds. That was about as much time he needed to decide that yes, he was going to listen to her. And then he was either going to trust her like a sucker or _dis_ trust her like a sucker, and that would be all there was to say on the matter. It wasn't like he had a list of cherry-picked five-star options here.

"Right," he said at last, and then he couldn't stop. "I'm not a hitchhiker looking for a free ride to Boston. But if there is any goddamn way you can get me out of this building, I'd be pretty deep in your debt. And by 'pretty deep' I mean you'd have to dive for me with a yellow submarine. I mean, any exit is fine – I'd take a tenth floor window if you can point me to one, but this whole place seems to be freshly out of windows. Wait, don't tell me – this complex is like ten miles underground, isn't it? Trolls are secretly moles. I knew it. So—"

"Kitten," the troll interrupted him, and that was probably the worst and therefore the best nickname he'd ever had. "You have no idea where you are, do you?"

"No clue."

The troll opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment they could both hear a clicking sound from the office. For a split second, neither moved. Then the troll gestured hurriedly for Dave to hide, before she launching herself back to the office just in time for Dave to hear the outer door sliding open.

Part of Dave wondered if the click was a troll knock, like an alien way of alerting someone that they had a visitor in their personal space. Most of him was not thinking at all, only slowly backing himself into the corner behind the door, waiting with tensed muscles and curled fists. He hoped in spite of himself that his host would make the guest go away.

" **You,** " said an all too familiar voice in the other room, and suddenly Dave couldn't have drawn breath if he had wanted to. _Fuck no._ "Secredocumentarian. **Have you seen that motherfucking human alien?** Because the wizkids have narrowed it down to this section. **And he's still fucking here.** "


	21. (Interlude)

\-- artfulChronicler [AC] began trolling cardinalGift [CG] \--

AC: :33 < cg!!!   
AC: :33 < *ac pounces on cg and clings to him and cries and cries and doesnt let go*   
CG: WHOA THERE.   
CG: *CATCHES AC AND HOLDS HER TENDERLY UNTIL SHE STOPS CRYING*   
CG: ARE YOU OK?   
AC: :33 < no   
AC: :33 < yes   
AC: :33 < im ok but   
AC: :33 < ive done something HORRIBLE   
CG: ALRIGHT   
CG: NO PUNS MEANS IT'S SERIOUS.   
CG: I DON'T HAVE A LOT OF TIME RIGHT NOW, BUT TALK TO ME.   
CG: WHAT HAPPENED?   
AC: :33 < .........   
AC: :33 < i handed the kitten back to be vivisectortured   
AC: :33 < i told him id try to help him!   
AC: :33 < and then   
AC: :33 < i couldnt :((    
AC: :33 < i couldnt even say im sorry   
AC: :33 < i f33l like im the worst person ever!   
CG: OK, SHHHHH.   
CG: NO YOU'RE NOT.   
CG: I'D EAT MY OWN SHIT IF IT TURNED OUT YOU DID THAT WITHOUT BEING FORCED TO.   
CG: AND YOU FEEL BAD ABOUT IT, WHICH IS MORE THAN CAN BE SAID FOR MOST OF THE BRAINWASHED ASSHOLES WE SHARE A PLANET WITH.   
CG: I'M NOT GOING TO SAY IT'S OK, BECAUSE THERE'S VERY FEW THINGS IN OUR ENTIRE NOOKTWISTED SOCIETY THAT IS ACTUALLY OK AND BEING FORCED TO SEND A CREATURE AWAY FOR TORTURE IS NOT ONE OF THOSE THINGS.   
CG: BUT I BET THE ONLY THING YOU COULD HAVE DONE DIFFERENTLY WOULD BE TO GET YOURSELF CULLED ON THE SPOT AND NOTHING WOULD HAVE CHANGED AT ALL.   
AC: :33 < i know   
AC: :33 < id be dead or taken for troll expurrimentation because its so close and it always happens to people who mess up up here   
CG: EXACTLY.   
CG: YOU GOT AN EVEN MORE FUCKED UP WORKPLACE THAN MOST, AND THAT'S SAYING SOMETHING.   
AC: :33 < but...   
AC: :33 < he had run away all on his own and hid in my office and stole my spare uniform and tried to pounce me and he was so cute and defenseless   
AC: :33 < he told jokes and tried to be all tough, but he was so SCARED   
AC: :33 < and i thought maybe i could actually save him!   
AC: :33 < but then the gh showed up and was all *im looking for a motherfucker*, and i was all *yes sir!* even though i didnt want to   
AC: :33 < i hate this!!! :CC   
CG: SHHHHHH, KITTY.   
CG: I HEAR YOU.   
CG: I TAKE IT THIS GUY WASN'T ACTUALLY A KITTEN.   
AC: :33 < *ac shakes her head*   
AC: :33 < it was an alien boy   
AC: :33 < sort of like a troll with no horns and weird peachy skin and white hair!   
CG: WELL   
CG: FUCK.   
AC: :33 < *ac looks worriedly at cg*   
AC: :33 < whats the matter?   
CG: FUCK IT ALL TO HELL WITH A SILVER SPOON IN A BUCKET OF MUSCLEBEAST CHEESE.   
CG: IS THAT SPECIES CALLED "HUMAN" BY ANY CHANCE?   
AC: :33 < how did you know??   
AC: :33 < its a new species! it hasnt even been officially reported yet!   
CG: I'M SORRY. I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU ABOUT ALL THIS LATER, BUT IT SEEMS LATER IS NOW. BECAUSE YOU'RE INVOLVED.   
CG: WHAT WOULD YOU SAY TO BEING A PART OF A SOMEWHAT SUICIDAL ATTEMPT TO RESCUE THIS PARTICULAR ALIEN BOY AND STICK A FINGER TO THE SYSTEM?   
AC: :33 < ...really??   
CG: REALLY.   
CG: ASSUMING ANY OF US SURVIVE WE'D SPEND THE REST OF OUR LIVES AS OUTLAWS, BUT THAT'S OK BECAUSE ALTERNIAN LAW IS THE SHITTIEST EXCREMENT OF UNSPEAKABLE CRUELTY IN THE UNIVERSE.   
CG: IF THERE'S EVEN THE SLIGHTEST CHANCE OF GETTING ENOUGH OF OUR PEOPLE TO REALIZE THAT, THE WORLD WOULD BE AN INFINITELY BETTER PLACE.   
CG: AND   
CG: I DO THINK THAT'S POSSIBLE.   
CG: I WAS GOING TO INVITE YOU ANYWAY.   
CG: BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT.    
AC: :33 < your visions?   
CG: YEAH.   
AC: :33 < :DD   
AC: :33 < *ac curls up in cgs lap and purrs*   
AC: :33 < i always thought they were just beautyifful fantasies!   
CG: WELL, I MADE UP MY MIND AND DECIDED THEY'RE NOT.   
AC: :33 < and that has something to do with the kitten?   
CG: SORT OF.   
CG: I'M PRETTY SURE HIS NAME IS DAVE STRIDER AND HE SO HAPPENS TO BE A FRIEND OF FRIEND OF MINE.   
AC: :33 < yes! his name was in the report   
AC: :33 < he has friends on alternia??   
CG: NOT A LOT OF THEM, THAT'S FOR SURE.   
CG: BUT SEE, GA AND I HAD A VISITOR LAST DAY.   
CG: ANOTHER HUMAN.   
AC: :33 < :OO   
CG: TO MAKE A LONG STORY VERY SHORT, HIS NAME IS JOHN, HE'S A GOOD GUY, AND HE MADE ME THINK ABOUT A BUNCH OF THINGS.   
CG: BUT THEN SOME TEALBLOOD TEXTED HIM AND TOLD HIM TO COME DANCING INTO HER TRAP BECAUSE SHE WAS HOLDING THIS DAVE GUY HOSTAGE.   
CG: NOT THAT I'M ACTUALLY SURPRISED TO HEAR THAT SHE SENT HIM OFF TO MEDSAT INSTEAD.   
CG: ANYWAY, I MADE A PROMISE TO HELP JOHN GET TO HIS FRIEND AND SAVE HIM IF AT ALL POSSIBLE.   
CG: I GUESS IT'S GOOD THAT WE WON'T HAVE TO GO INTO THAT TEAL WOMAN'S TRAP, ESPECIALLY SINCE GA FOUND OUT THAT THERE'S A FUCKING DRAGON LIVING IN THAT AREA.   
CG: ON THE OTHER HAND, WE HAVE TO INFILTRATE THE GRUBFUCKING MEDSAT INSTEAD.   
CG: AWAY FROM THE CULLING DRONE AND INTO THE SUNSHINE, ISN'T THAT HOW THE SAYING GOES?   
AC: :33 < yeah   
AC: :33 < do you really think its pawsible?   
CG: I HAVE NO IDEA.   
CG: ARE YOU IN?   
AC: :33 < of course i am!   
AC: :33 < just tell me what i have to do   
CG: THANKS.   
CG: HOW LONG DO WE HAVE?   
CG: THAT IS, HOW LONG BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE TO SAVE THE HUMAN?   
AC: :33 < im not sure...   
AC: :33 < but i dont think theyre going to let him die anytime soon   
CG: THAT'S GOOD.   
CG: WELL, NO.   
CG: IT'S ABSOLUTELY NAUSEATING, BUT IT'S GOOD FOR US.   
CG: WE'RE GOING TO NEED A PLAN.   
AC: :33 < yesss   
AC: :33 < a quick strike from behind, and abscond before they strike back   
AC: :33 < sneaky like a shadowbeast   
CG: SOMETHING LIKE THAT.   
CG: GA AND I ALREADY LEFT OUR HIVE LAST NIGHT.   
CG: WE'RE IN KROYA RIGHT NOW, AND JOHN IS WAITING NEARBY.   
CG: I'LL NEED TO TALK TO BOTH OF THEM ABOUT THIS.   
CG: BUT I'M GUESSING WE'LL NEED TO GET UP THERE.   
CG: IS THERE ANY WAY YOU COULD POSSIBLY MANIPULATE THE RECORDS TO GET TWO OR THREE PEOPLE ABOARD A SHUTTLE FROM KROYA TO THE MEDSAT WITH NO QUESTIONS ASKED?   
AC: :33 < well   
AC: :33 < i do have access to the travel records!   
AC: :33 < i could try to register you as visiting quadrants of someone who works here?   
CG: AC.   
AC: :33 < yes?   
CG: THAT WAS THE LEAST ROMANTIC PROPOSAL EVER.   
AC: :33 < h33h33   
AC: :33 < theres a midday shuttle with supplies leaving kroya in a few hours and it sometimes takes passengers   
AC: :33 < i could try to get you on that with fake infurmation   
AC: :33 < but it wouldnt be safe   
AC: :33 < and even if it works im not sure how wed get the kitten and ourselves out... ://    
CG: YEAH.   
CG: THAT'S WHAT PLANS ARE FOR.   
CG: RIGHT NOW I'M ABOUT TO BE SCOLDED BY GA FOR BEING RECKLESS.   
CG: I'LL KEEP IN TOUCH.   
CG: <3    
AC: :33 < <33! 

\-- cardinalGift [CG] ceased trolling artfulChronicler [AC] \--


	22. John

John was floating. Not just feeling like he was floating in emptiness or something like that, but it seemed he was literally hovering, and he supposed it might be a bit weird to rest on thin air when he wasn't even doing the windy thing. But everything was fine and nothing hurt and he didn't worry about it. For some reason that he couldn't quite remember he thought he should have been in pain, but no. He was warm and comfortable and all was right.

Slowly, he started to hear voices. There were people around him. That should probably mean something, but it was like hearing through water – someone was talking, someone else yelling, but the specific voices and words were lost in the din that was blood rushing through his own veins.

Only then did John realize the most obvious thing of all. _He was alive._ He'd been dead. Redglare had killed him. At that, John's muscles shuddered and his lungs filled with air like it was his first breath ever, and he felt himself sink down to rest on the ground.

Opening his eyes, it was like the world came back into focus in a single swoop – not just sight, but hearing and smell and touch returned instantly in almost overwhelming sharpness. He was lying on his back on a hard dirt floor. There were wooden rafters above. The air smelled of earth and old wood and the iron tang of blood. The light was dim. The plank wall by his side had a hole covered with dark fabric. Pieces of wood were scattered on the floor, some lodged underneath him. He was wearing too many layers of clothes.

"John! _John!_ Can you hear me?"

And above all, the yelling voice was still there. Half of John's field of vision was covered by a wide-eyed gray face with little nubby horns. The Signless Karkat – when did _he_ get here? – was kneeling at John's side with his hands hovering above John as if he wasn't sure if he could touch him or not, and he looked flabbergasted. It was sort of funny, actually. John could feel his Prankster's Gambit soaring.

"Hi Karkat," he said, grinning up at the troll.

Karkat's eyes grew even wider, and his hands fell down at his sides. "Oh my fucking god, this isn't... You..." He seemed to fumble for words. "What in the thrice-damned nookpoking embrace of the Condesce's tentacled lusus just happened here?" 

"Well, I—" John started, but Karkat wasn't looking at him anymore. He had turned his head to throw a stony stare at something on the other end of the shed. John propped himself up on an elbow to see what he was looking at, and the sight made the knot that had been in his stomach re-tie itself.

There were two more trolls standing there, right by the door. The Dolorosa – and Redglare.

"Oh my god," John gasped, grin fading into a grimace of horror as he scrambled to his feet. "Get away from her, Dolorosa!" he yelled. "She _killed_ me!"

"We did notice that fact, John," the Dolorosa said. She looked just as dumbstruck as Karkat, and didn't move. On second glance, maybe she shouldn't. There was some kind of small handgun in Redglare's right hand, casually pointed at the Dolorosa's back. Redglare herself was strangely quiet, leaning slightly on her dragonhead staff, face inscrutable behind the red shades. John felt his hands clench into fists.

"What are you two even doing here?" he asked, mind racing. If they came here looking for him, and Redglare captured them, too... He had been so stupid. He felt a pang of guilty consciousness over leaving the waiting spot, and even more when he imagined what his friends must have seen if they arrived here a few minutes ago.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Karkat retorted as if reading John's mind. "You promised to wait!"

"I was kidnapped by a dragon!" That part, at least, felt a little bit excusable.

"And then you went ahead and got yourself _killed_! Which was exactly what we were trying to avoid, but hell, it's alright because you're fucking _undead_!?"

"I told you I was hard to kill!" Come to think of it, the details of that had never really come up back in his friends' hive. Stupid.

"Well, most people would take that as 'hard to kill' because you're tough or strong or blowing windy things every which way to throw off the metaphorical culling fork! Not 'hard to kill' because you're a divine miracle that _bounce back from having his torso crushed like an eggshell_ , damn you!" John caught a hint of pink wetness in the corner of the Signless Karkat's eyes, but it was quickly brushed away by the back of his hand.

"Oh man." John grimaced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

Redglare tapped her staff twice on the floor, cutting John off as everyone's eyes turned on her. John could have sworn he saw her swallow, but her voice was flat. "Quiet," she said. "All of you. Or does anyone else here want to change the very definition of justice?" She tilted the gun slightly, moving the muzzle from the Dolorosa to the Signless Karkat and back again.

John snapped his teeth together. _Fuck._ He didn't need to be told how bad this was. Redglare wasn't just going to let them go. Not after she had already killed John once. She didn't even need the gun; she had a dragon, and that was like the ultimate weapon, and it wasn't like anyone else was going to bounce back from being suddenly executed.

Before he knew it, John summoned a whoosh of wind, slamming Redglare backwards into the corner of the shed with a sharp thud. The gun fell from her hand on impact and the shed shook dangerously, but John remembered to hold back before the rickety old building was brought down on top of them. The next moment he was standing – no, _hovering_ – before her, looking down on her with a snarl on his face, the wind around him still making the shed creak. "If you touch them, I'll kill you!" he said. "And _that_ would be just." It scared him a little, but he might actually mean it.

"John," Karkat said quietly behind him, but he hardly noticed.

He felt strong. The remains of the burns, the itch in his eyes and the bruises from the dragon kidnapping were all gone, and so was the exhaustion from the previous night. It was just like the last time he had returned from the dead; he felt perfectly rested and fit and _confused_ , but at least this time he wasn't surrounded by the corpses of loved ones. If he had any say in the matter, it was going to stay that way.

"Perhaps it would," Redglare said with a brief snarl of her own. She was recovering quickly, and she hadn't dropped the staff – now she was holding it defensively in both hands, as if daring him to come closer. "Apparently you did have a way of conclusively proving at least some of your ludicrous claims. But now it seems the truth is even harder to swallow than I expected." She sounded strangely bitter.

"What do you mean?"

"You're alive." It was almost an accusation.

"Yeah. Because I didn't deserve to die like that! Duh!"

"Yes, John, you did." Redglare's face was tense. "According to everything I've ever been schoolfed, you did deserve death. And you made it clear that you are able to die like anyone else if your death is ordained by justice. I was even being merciful – if I had followed the rules to the letter, you would have ended up as Dave, but all I did was to follow the minimum requirements of the law. The fact that you're alive does not make sense."

"Well, laws aren't justice if they're _stupid_ laws!" John countered. "I didn't do anything to you! And neither did Dave! How can it be just to hurt and kill someone just for _being_ there?"

"Wait, hold it," the Signless Karkat said, touching John's arm. He looked more amazed than anything else. John hadn't even noticed that his troll friends had placed themselves on either side of him, crowding in on Redglare in the corner, but now it felt good to have them there. Redglare was still holding her staff out to keep them away, but dragon or no dragon, she looked so much smaller like this. "John can only die if it's 'just'? Seriously?"

Redglare snorted. "You didn't even tell them."

"It's some kind of kind of conditional immortality with the God Tier thing," John explained and waved his hand vaguely. "It's like I can only die either as a martyr for a good cause or as a villain who deserves it?"

Karkat paused for a second. "That's... That's actually brilliant."

"It seems the rules of this particular blessing disagree with the draconian laws of the Alternian Empire," the Dolorosa mused, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm inclined to concur that it is brilliant."

"In other words," Karkat said, "you're alive because your death was meaningless and stupid."

John grimaced. "I guess so."

"A fact," Redglare said, "that seems to imply that the _law_ is meaningless and stupid."

John was about to say that yes it _was_ , but the Signless Karkat got there before him. "Well," he said. "Isn't there a little voice inside you right now wondering if maybe there's some truth in that?"

John wasn't sure, but Redglare might have winced a tiny bit. "Actually," she said, "a lot of things are meaningless and stupid." There was ice in her voice. Her face was angled straight forward, and it was hard to tell what she was thinking behind the red shades. "For example, two trolls, intending to save their illegal alien acquaintance that they only met yesternight. One creating a half-assed distraction to swerve the attention of a higher-blooded officer of the law and her dragon lusus, while the other sneaks around and trespasses into said officer's property. Does any of that seem wise?"

"I object to describing it as 'half-assed'," the Dolorosa said. "Though technically I suppose a derisive word is warranted since it failed. You were expecting us."

"Yes, I was. After talking to John, there seemed to be a good possibility that you'd show up, too. But tell me, did you actually think there was any possibility that you would not end up as criminals for culling before the day was over?"

"The laws being what they are," the Dolorosa replied calmly, "we never had much to lose when it came to being regarded as criminal. You must have already guessed that."

"Indeed. It doesn't make the action seem any less foolish."

"And still," the Signless Karkat said, pushing John a few inches aside and taking a step closer to Redglare. "Right now you're thinking that maybe it wouldn't be _just_ to cull us." It wasn't even a question, just a statement, though John was pretty sure that Karkat couldn't _really_ read minds.

"Wouldn't it?" Redglare said, smoothly twisting the staff around. John started to grasp for another gust of wind, but Karkat raised his hand to stop him from interfering. The next instant the tip of the staff landed lightly on Karkat's throat.

"Would it?" Karkat asked back as if nothing had happened. He looked strangely mild. It wasn't quite as odd as his smile, but John couldn't really imagine the Cancer Karkat looking like this either, especially not facing someone who could crush his windpipe _or_ call down a dragon on them all at any moment. It was like he somehow trusted that she wouldn't. John looked from Karkat to Redglare and bit his lip, but found himself backing down in spite of himself, letting go of the wind and putting his feet back on the floor.

"Forget the law for a moment," Karkat insisted. "I'm serious. What do _you_ think?"

"I don't know." Redglare's pokerface was more unreadable than Dave's had ever been, but she was clearly putting pressure on the staff on Karkat's throat. "Are you in a hurry to die?"

"No." Karkat shook his head slightly, not backing away. "And you're in no hurry to kill us, are you? You could have had the dragon attack us as soon as it was obvious that John was getting back to life, but you didn't, and you still haven't. Why not?"

"Maybe I want to get to the bottom of this first. Maybe I need to know the _truth_. Maybe I don't have to explain myself to you."

The Signless Karkat shrugged. "That's okay. I'm not going to try to force you. But the thing is, you have no idea how happy I am that you're _thinking_ about this. You want to know the truth? I think you already know it! You could dismiss John's alien justice as completely irrelevant if you wanted to, but it's getting to you, isn't it?"

"It's a question of legitimacy. Culling disturbing individuals is a basic tenet of the law. It causes suffering, but it's what keeps society coherent. It _has_ to be justice."

"Because justice is important to you," Karkat said. "And it sounds to me like you've even wondered about it before, but you're not _allowed_ to question this shitty system, so you didn't. Not until now."

"Shut up."

"I'm not shutting up. I'm helping you get to the bottom of this. Tell me, what did you think when you had the dragon kill John?"

"I was thinking that I rightly executed an unwanted element." Redglare's voice was still flat, but the staff trembled slightly in her hands. The Signless Karkat's eyes were calmly fixed on her face, and after a couple of seconds of silence she relented. "Fine. I was thinking – I was thinking that _if_ this was proven wrong, if something out there did not deem his death 'just' enough..." She trailed off, and this time the silence stretched out.

"Then what?" Karkat prompted.

"Exactly! Then what?" Her face was still stiff, but she finally lowered the staff, putting the tip down on the floor with a clack. "I don't even know."

"Shhhhh," Karkat said soothingly. "It's alright." To John's surprise, Karkat reached out and put his arm around Redglare's back, pulling her close. It was even more surprising when she accepted it without protests or violence. John glanced at the Dolorosa, but she was just looking on with a small smile on her lips.

"No," Redglare said. "It's far from alright." She didn't turn to face Karkat, but talked in some vague direction in front of her feet. "How could you possibly understand? You're a criminal and an alien conspirator. I'm a policeradicator. I aspire to be a _legislacerator_. Justice isn't just some vague abstract thing to stay wary of, it's my life blood! It's what I fight to uphold! Justice is what keeps the world running and protects the empire – it's not something that can be changed at the drop of a ridiculous piece of headwear. It's defined and codified, and every sacrifice has to be worth it. Justice is the _law_. If the law is bullshit, then what am I?"

"You're a decent troll who's trying her best to make sense of a fucked up system."

"Hah." Redglare's lips split into an tense smile. "It's more likely that _I_ am fucked up for even considering that. Not to mention listening to you."

"Tell me it's crossed your mind," Karkat said softly, "that it might not be right that weak or sick or the slightest bit different trolls are culled by drones on sight? Or that half-grown children are harvested from their lususes into slavery? Or that lowbloods are getting tortured, enslaved and killed for offences where a highblood would get off scot free?" He sighed. "Or, you know, that the most mercy that can legally be offered a lost alien is a quick death. Can any of that actually be called _justice_?"

"It's all supposed to be for the good of the empire," Redglare mumbled. Her mouth twitched a little bit. "But. I know. I do know." She leaned slightly into the Signless Karkat's embrace, allowing him to pull her into a full hug.

"Karkat," John said nervously, feeling weird for interrupting, but even weirder for looking on. "I don't even care that she killed me, I mean, that's fine, I'm better now, but... She sent Dave off to a _space station_ to be _tortured_! Why are you hugging her?"

At that, Redglare raised her face and chuckled a little. "That is a good question, Mister Signless McNubbyhorns. Do you pity me that much?"

"I pity everyone," the Signless Karkat said frankly, and for all that John was weirded out about this, he realized that there was something really _cool_ about it, too. The Signless Karkat had been excited about changing the world, and maybe this kind of thing was exactly what he had been talking about? Maybe Redglare was actually changing her mind. John chewed on his lip and didn't say anything more. The Dolorosa patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"That's a bold statement," Redglare commented.

"I wish I didn't have to, but there you have it. Every single troll is just so goddamn _broken_. And you're in a position to enforce this fucked up society, so of course you don't want to doubt that it's all good – but you've seen it. And you _know_ the law is terror, whether you want to admit it or not. Maybe it's for the good of some abstract 'empire', but the empire consists of people that are suffering! And then John comes along and gives you something you can't outright deny, and you just can't just pretend any longer, can you? Of course I pity you!"

"So what do you suggest? That I run away from my duties and follow you into hiding as a criminal? Don't be ridiculous."

"I wouldn't say no to that." Karkat smiled slightly. "But I'd settle for you listening to me for a while and think about it. And then let us go. It's not like we mean any harm."

Redglare leaned in on Karkat and sniffed. "You're a mutant, aren't you?" she said, and it was unexpected enough that John could see both Karkat and the Dolorosa flinch. He might have tensed a bit himself, too.

"How do you figure that?" Karkat asked.

"Sadly, most trolls will never experience the world in the bouquet of flavor my lusus has taught me," she said, smiling. "I smell something wrong under your skin."

"Fine," Karkat said calmly. "I'm not even going to deny it. To be specific, my blood's pretty much the same color as the humans'. Bright red; you've seen it. Does it matter?"

"It matters to the law. If you're off the hemoscale, you're a disturbing element that needs to be destroyed just as much as an unsolicited alien."

Karkat snorted. "Believe me, I'm aware of that. Does it matter to _justice_?"

Redglare sighed softly. "Perhaps not."

"Exactly. It doesn't, because blood color is a shitty gauge for troll worth in the first place. You're getting it." He let go of her and took a step back. "If you're not going to kill us for the moment, can I tell you a story?"

"A story?"

"It's about how things could be different. Because they could. It's not like we have to be stuck in this cull-or-be-culled world forever – I promise." Karkat flopped down crosslegged on the floor with his back against the wall and gestured for her to do the same. "Come on, you're already listening to me."

Redglare hesitated for a moment, then sat down. "Go on."

The Dolorosa turned away from them and tugged gently at John's sleeve. "I need to talk to you," she said quietly. "Come, we can leave them alone now. There's no need to worry." 

John nodded hesitantly, glancing back at the Signless Karkat and Redglare as the Dolorosa pulled him along by the arm to the other end of the shed.

"What just happened there?" John whispered.

The Dolorosa smiled. "The world is changing," she whispered back.

"Wow," John said. He wasn't sure what else to say. "Can we really trust her, though?"

She nodded. "I trust _him_."

They went to the opposite corner of the shed, half-hidden behind some empty shelves – it wasn't like being in private, but John supposed it was far enough that they could have a conversation without disturbing the others if they kept their voices down. The Dolorosa turned around and looked closely at John.

"First," she said, "I need to know if you are alright." There was genuine concern in her voice.

"Yeah, I am." John looked down at himself, and he really did feel fine. There wasn't a drop of blood on his sun coat either. He was sure there _had_ been blood at some point, but glancing back at the spot where he had died it all seemed to be gone. Like he'd never been hurt at all. "I'm fine. Alive, too. Not undead or anything."

She nodded. "That's a relief to hear."

"It's weird, though..." John hesitated. He still felt like he was stuffed in too much clothing for some reason. "Wait a second," he said and opened up the sun coat. He was still wearing Karkat's signless black shirt and pants, but it felt like there was more. He pulled up the shirt, and sure enough, there was something blue there. Blue and pajama-like with a wavy wind symbol on his chest, and he stifled a giggle. He confirmed with his hands that the blue pants were there too, and the windsock hood was lodged between the shirt and the sun coat and yeah. The return of the god pajama. Before he knew it, he was laughing, even though it wasn't _that_ funny. 

"I'm not going to demand an explanation of why the outfit you were wearing when we found you has suddenly decided to reappear underneath your other clothing," the Dolorosa said. "I have decided that that part is less unbelievable than that you revived in the first place, which is something I saw that with my own eyes."

"Yeah, you could ask, but I couldn't answer," John said, suddenly realizing that his heartbeat was still doing double drumrolls in his chest. He leaned against the wall and tried to relax, at least a little bit. "Maybe the God Tier thing doesn't want me to come back to life naked if my clothes are destroyed or something?"

"Yes. That is indeed an explanation," the Dolorosa said.

"Look," John said, looking down at his feet. "I'm really sorry about this."

"In the circumstances, I'll have to accept your apology. I am happy that the situation did not turn out to be as dire as it first seemed when the Dragon Lady took me inside."

"Mm," John said, nodding. He really did feel bad about it. "Her name is Redglare," he told the Dolorosa. "And – I suppose I should thank you. For trying to save me. Thanks."

"It would have been too late if not for your surprising resurrective abilities," the Dolorosa said, "but you're welcome." She paused for a deep breath, then continued. "Now," she said. "This Redglare told you that she sent Dave to the MedSat, is that correct?"

"Yeah. I have to get there, somehow." He tilted his head slightly. "How did you know the name? I only said a space station."

"We had already found out where he was when we went back for you. We have a friend who works there, who unexpectedly happened to inform us about it by the Network."

"Oh." On the one hand, maybe John wouldn't have had to speak to Redglare at all. If he had waited and hidden and not been found by the dragon. Stupid stupid dumb. On the other hand... John's head perked up. "Can this friend help us?"

"Perhaps," the Dolorosa said, lowering her voice even more. "She won't be able to free him on her own. However, she is in a position to be able to shuffle some paperwork. According to the last we heard from her, she is positive that she can get a couple of trolls with false credentials onboard the midday shuttle for MedSat. It leaves in about two hours. However—"

"You said trolls," Johns remarked. "Does that mean she can't get _me_ there?"

"Exactly. That would be much more difficult. All passengers are at least cursory checked at the spaceport, and you wouldn't be able to pass. Luggage is also checked for living creatures, as every living being on the space station needs to be registered. If anything, she might be able to get you aboard as a second specimen, but I'm afraid that defeats the purpose."

"A second specimen?"

"You'd have to be officially turned in. You'd be separated from us, restrained and guarded and possibly beaten or drugged even before going to the station. Your psychics would give you an edge, naturally, but your position wouldn't be much better than your friend's, and we'd be looking at breaking out two prisoners instead of one. It's not a good prospect."

John frowned. "Okay," he said. "I can see that." He made a grimace, leaning his head back and tried to think. "But we have to get there _somehow_!" His experience with the dragon made John very much aware that the windy thing was not a Get Out of Jail Free-card – not when he got hurt and blinded and disoriented – but maybe it would be different if he was prepared for it. It certainly didn't sound like fun, but... "If that's the only way, then that's how we have to do it, right?"

"It's not the only way," the Dolorosa said. "The wiser alternative is that you stay down here. We've discussed it, and there is a chance that I, your 'Karkat' and our friend on the inside can get your human friend away on a bluff and a bit of subterfuge. I admit it depends a lot on luck, but it might be our best chance."

John hesitated. "Would you really do that? Wouldn't that be really dangerous?" It felt like he couldn't ask them to risk themselves if he was being safe on the ground himself – and in a way, he'd prefer it if they didn't risk themselves at all – but at the same time, hearing that they had a plan made him feel both grateful and relieved.

She nodded. "We've decided to make the attempt. It _is_ risky, but the way we discussed it we will have plausible deniability to a point. If it seems it's not going to work, all three of us might have to back out and abscond empty-handed, though. Physically fighting our way out of a facility like that is not a possible option."

John frowned again. "I get it, I guess. And you're saying there's absolutely nothing I can do?"

"The problem with bringing you as a prisoner is that it seems impossible to get two specimens out stealthily. If you don't manage to break out on your own, you're done for. And even if you do, that would create a disturbance that would only hinder attempts to get your friend."

"Maybe I could be a distraction?"

She shook her head. "If you're the same new species as him, they'll treat you as a set. Your attempts at distraction would only tighten security on him."

John fell silent for a few seconds. It sounded like she had a reasonable plan, sure, but if it failed, that would be _it_ , and John wouldn't be able to do a thing. Because he wouldn't be there. It wasn't that he didn't trust the Dolorosa and the Signless Karkat, and going off on his own had not worked out so well last time, but this whole situation was so messed up. Dave was probably being tortured even as they were speaking. John shuddered. Maybe he could... "Wait," he said. "How far up is this space station?"


	23. Jade

"Well what?" Jade snapped, not because it seemed like a good idea to mouth back, but because she was too wound up to say nothing.

Mindfang looked her over without replying. This close Jade could make out the troll's face more clearly, and she really did look a lot like Vriska, down to the silly multi-pupiled eye and the sign of Scorpio in blue on her coat. Jade had been absolutely right about that. Her sharp teeth were bared in a strange smile, like she was fascinated and sort of gleeful, but she didn't look the slightest bit sympathetic. Because she wouldn't be. No one on this fuckass planet cared. Jade returned Mindfang's gaze with a hard stare, her burning anger at the way she was being treated like an object and almost killed for amusement overriding the sheer terror lodged deep in her stomach.

Jade's eclectica dress was in tatters and her limbs were stiff and aching and stinging and the thunder of her own heartbeat threatened to drown out the sounds of the wind and the waves and the shouting voices around her, but it started to sink in that she was actually _alive_. Dualscar had meant to kill her, but she had done some kind of _spacey thing_. Somehow. It shouldn't have been possible, and she had no idea how to do it again. It felt like some kind of truth about the universe had revealed itself to her for an instant and then disappeared again. Like being a Hero of Space was actually more than being in charge of the frogs.

Like being a Hero of Space still meant something at all even though the game was supposed to be gone.

There was no time to think about it. Mindfang was standing right there in front of her and this ship was full of trolls just like Dualscar's, and just because she was alive and Eridan's douchebag Ancestor had dropped her didn't mean she was safe or in a better position for anything. Not if she couldn't defend herself from _Vriska's_ douchebag Ancestor.

Jade tried to scramble to her feet, but Mindfang didn't let her. The troll's boot slammed painfully into Jade's chest as soon as she moved, pinning her against the deck. Jade gasped and tried instinctively to roll away, but Mindfang put some more weight on her foot, and suddenly just breathing was a struggle.

Noo. Jade clenched her teeth, and there were hot tears threatening in her eyes even though she had told herself not to cry anymore. She was so weak. Weak and unarmed and infuriatingly helpless, and Grandpa would have killed her for letting the trolls handle her like this. Jade's arms and legs shook with unusable fury, but _fine_. She couldn't fight, but she could survive. She'd survived this long. There had to be something she could do as long as she wasn't dead. Rose was on this ship. She had to find Rose.

She tried to collect her breath to speak, but Mindfang's attention seemed to have shifted upwards, so Jade looked up too. 

The white blur that was Dualscar's mount seemed to be descending. He was screaming curses in his stupid wavy accent, and Jade didn't feel the least bit sorry for him. Actually, looking at him, she felt a little bit less helpless. She'd ruined his douchey plan by not dying. That meant she'd won. Hah. And maybe she wouldn't have to deal with him any more. That should be such a relief – and maybe it was. Maybe Mindfang was really a nice and sensible person once you got to talk to her. It _could_ be true. But Jade had already heard Mindfang talk, and she was pretty much _standing_ on her right now and no, everything Jade had found out told her that Mindfang and her crew and pretty much everyone else on this entire planet were absolutely horrible. Jade and her friends weren't supposed to be here. She had to get them all _out_.

"Thanks!" Mindfang yelled up at Dualscar. "This is a veeeeeeeery nice gift!"

Dualscar came even closer, close enough for Jade to be able to make out his shape where he sat on his flying white seahorse against the dark sky. "This is fuckin' hilarious," he said loudly. "I don't givve a glub wwhat you did to get that alien dowwn in one piece, but noww givve it back to me so I can cull it properly. You havve no fuckin' need for twwo livve ones."

"Not really, no," Mindfang admitted, and Jade felt her own fists clench even tighter. "But it's not your call to make, is it? I clearly remember you _giving_ me this alien. For free. The deal has been made, and you can't take it back just because you can't aim."

"There's nothing wwrong wwith my aim," Dualscar sneered. "You resorted to some fuckin' trick to kelp her sloww dowwn in your fugly ancient history throwwback sails. You're ridiculously desperate."

"I'm flattered that you think so highly of my abilities to control my ships," Mindfang replied smoothly, "But the fact remains that you're usually a better shot than this, Orphaner. Sometimes you're such a disappointment." She sighed theatrically. "Now leave."

Instead of leaving, Dualscar growled and went for the rifle on his back. "Step awway from the alien, Spinneret," he said in a steely voice. "I'll showw you wwhat kind of a shot I am." 

Mindfang didn't move, and suddenly Jade was almost grateful for that. The way Mindfang was standing she was partly blocking Jade from above, at least enough that Dualscar couldn't shoot Jade with something as powerful as the Ahab's Crosshairs without hitting Mindfang too. Jade found herself biting her lip, not even breathing, as the two trolls stared each other down over her. It was like her survival pissed Dualscar off just as much or even more than he had hoped her death would piss off Mindfang. Like her life was nothing but a token in a game they played, and she herself had no say in the matter.

Mindfang snorted. She stayed with her foot firmly planted on Jade's chest, but Jade could hear movement on the deck around her. Guns were being cocked again. She couldn't see it from here, but she knew very well that Dualscar was surrounded. Jade breathed out slowly. Mindfang had the upper hand, and she supposed that was good.

"You seem to have forgotten where you are," Mindfang said. "These are _my_ ships. _My_ crew. And this alien you just gave to me? Also mine."

Dualscar didn't reply, only hovered above with his rifle squarely aimed at Mindfang and Jade.

"Go ahead," Mindfang dared him. "Fire that gun. Kill me and this alien in one shot. One eighth of a second later you'll be dead too, and the seas will have lost two of their most prominent inhabitants." She chuckled, like she wasn't concerned at all. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"As much as I'd lovve to see your blue guts splattered across the wwavves, I hate you too much to end it like that. So fuck you." Dualscar still didn't move.

"Maybe next time," Mindfang suggested with a shrug. "I'm pretty sure I've mentioned that I'm in the middle of something right now."

Finally Dualscar lowered the rifle with a glubbing sound in his throat. "She's a Space Wwitch," he spat. "She did somefin tricky to survvivve that fall. You should be vvery wwary of that one, Spinneret. I'm only glad to be rid of her. For noww."

"Fuck off." Mindfang waved at him with a gesture that might or might not have been obscene. 

Dualscar gave her one last glare, like he couldn't bother to reply. Finally he turned around and let his mount dive down between the ships, disappearing with a quiet splash.

Only then did Mindfang turn her attention back to Jade. As soon as the troll looked down, Jade forced herself to speak. There were a lot of things she wanted to say – assure Mindfang that she wasn't dangerous, find out what she intended to do with her, ask if she could possibly have some water to drink – but all that came out was the one question that was burning the most in her mind.

"Where's Rose?"

Mindfang frowned and slowly eased the pressure on Jade's chest, making it possible for Jade to gratefully draw a deep breath. There were sounds of footsteps approaching on deck – other crewmembers gathering around their captain and her new captive – and once Jade could breathe normally she also noticed the faint vibrations of engines somewhere on the ship. "You know her," Mindfang said after a brief pause. It wasn't a question.

"Of course I do," Jade replied, propping herself up on her elbows. "She's one of my best friends!"

Mindfang smirked. That had to be the right word – Jade couldn't call something like that a smile. "Interesting," she said. "And lucky. Extreeeeeeeemely lucky."

Jade wasn't sure she liked the sound of that, but when she tried to ask what Mindfang meant, she found that she couldn't. Her mouth just wouldn't move. It took her a heartbeat to realize exactly why, and by then she found that she was already starting to rise to her feet. Which – sure – was something she actually _wanted_ to do, but it felt uncomfortable because it wasn't _her_ doing it. Her body was moving on its own accord, just like when she had tried to attack Dualscar back on the seahorse, and that meant Mindfang was doing something inside Jade's brain again.

Shit. Jade's instinct was to tell her to stop it. She could move on her own, damn it! But her mouth still refused to open and form words, and now she was standing, facing Mindfang, a group of other trolls visible in her peripheral vision, but she couldn't look around either. Her heart had started to slow down, but now it was beating like a sledgehammer again. Mindfang couldn't do this! This was beyond rude. It didn't hurt or anything – it was just completely _infuriating_. She was a person, not one of Dave's bro's silly puppets! She glared at Mindfang the best she could, but it probably wasn't much.

"What do you think?" Mindfang asked a troll man next to her.

"I'm pretty sure it's the same species," he replied with a small frown.

Mindfang nodded. "Not quite as exotic, though. I like the other one's coloring better." She ran a hand over Jade's head, and Jade would have growled at her if she could. She couldn't, and instead her face tilted up against her will, to look straight into Mindfang's eyes.

"Green eyes," Mindfang remarked. "Definitely not as interesting as the other one. But then again, maybe this is _exactly_ what I need."

"You should be careful, Marquise," a troll woman behind Mindfang said slowly. "If there's two of them about, there might be even more, and..."

"Yeah, the Marquise might lose her touch if Dualscar keeps handing her stuff like this," another woman interrupted with a laugh. 

Mindfang turned around and made a sweeping gesture over her gathered crewmembers. "Alright, barkbeasts," she said loudly. "Get back to your stations! I still have work to do tonight, and so do you!"

Jade tried to take a step backwards when Mindfang turned away – just do _anything_ – but she still couldn't move. Her entire body felt heavy like stone even though she was standing perfectly normal, like she was relaxed and everything was nice and fine. She tried again to open her mouth – how was she supposed to be able to survive if she couldn't fight and couldn't run and couldn't even _talk_? – but her body refused to obey. This was worse than Dualscar. He hadn't listened, but he had given her a chance at least. What if Mindfang kept this up? Had she done this to Rose, too? A new wave of terrible helplessness swept over Jade, even as she tried frantically to hold herself together.

The crew scattered, and Jade found herself walking in front of Mindfang down a narrow flight of stairs and a short distance through a dark corridor on the second deck down. Mindfang opened a sliding door and made Jade walk into the room inside, then stop as she followed and closed the door behind them.

Seven trolls seemed to stop what they were doing and turned around to watch as Jade and Mindfang passed into the room. Jade had no idea what to expect, but she felt tense and tried to stay alert though her body didn't seem to be her own any more. The trolls in the room started to ask questions on top of each other, and Mindfang made them shut up and started to explain the situation. Jade would have listened, but right then one of the trolls shifted and gave her a clear view of something by the wall at the other end of the room.

_Rose._

She was hanging by her wrists from shorts chains fastened to a ring in the wall, her bare feet only partly touching the floor. She was wearing a plain gray dress, not her own black and purple one. Her head was hanging lifelessly against her chest, some of her unbound hair sticking to her face, and at first Jade wasn't even sure she was breathing. But she was – silent but hard and uneven, like she was hurt and desperately trying to pretend she wasn't. There were red bruises forming in several places on the skin exposed on her arms and legs, and Jade realized with a shiver that the trolls had been beating her.

It shouldn't be a surprise. Jade herself wasn't in a much better condition, and she must have looked even more pathetic last night at Dualscar's stupid railing. But this was _Rose_ , and Rose was strong and resourceful and snarky, and seeing her like this was just _wrong_. She had to do something. Jade's fingers twitched even though her body was still unresponsive like stone.

And then Rose raised her face. Her eyes widened with recognition behind strands of damp hair. "Jade," she whispered. "No."


	24. Rose

Rose was fully aware that the trolls were holding back. They were _not_ trying to kill or cripple her. They were _not_ trying to break her body, just her resistance, and the beating would leave nasty bruises, but not much more. They were even avoiding her face, because Mindfang wanted her alive and looking reasonably whole. This fact was her only advantage, and she clung to it like a shield even as she gasped through clenched teeth and whimpered deep in her throat at particularly vicious blows. She refused to cry out, proving to herself that she had at least that much autonomy left. 

She'd survive. She'd live through this. She'd still be Rose Lalonde. All she had to do was to endure the abuse and whatever would follow, and there would be chances later, chances to escape and chances to find her friends again. It would be worth it – it had to be, or else the darkness inside her mind was right, and she wouldn't admit to that. _Not yet._

An undeterminable number of minutes passed before Mindfang returned, but although Rose didn't relish the prospect of facing her again, she felt an almost embarrassing amount of relief when she heard the door slide open and the barrage of blows ceased. Rose didn't look up – as if declining to acknowledge the Marquise would make her any less present – and unexpectedly, she was given a moment of respite to collect herself rather than being immediately addressed. There was a murmur rising among her tormentors as soon as Mindfang entered the room, culminating in a torrent of questions about something that the Marquise had brought with her, which in turn led to an explanation of the encounter with her kismesis. It might well be important, but Rose failed to bring herself to care enough to listen.

In all sincerity, she wanted nothing so much as to collapse in an undignified heap on the floor. If the wire-enhanced cuffs hadn't been cutting into her wrists, holding her arms above her head and keeping her upright, she would quite likely already have done so. The blunt pain all over her body was starting to settle into a throbbing, dull ache, and it hurt sharply to breathe. It occurred to her that a few of her ribs might be more than bruised after all. Cracked, if not outright broken. She was such a weak, pathetic thing, and it would be so easy, so _disastrous_ to change that.

Just keep breathing. Push the pain away. She could deal with this.

Her focus was shattered even before the trolls turned their attention back to her, as somewhere in the back of her awareness Rose recognized the Marquise mentioning her name. 

"...not really as exotic looking as my _'Rose Lalonde'_ , but it has to be the same species, so..."

Rose felt her guts turn to ice. _Please, no._ She tasted bile in the back of her dry throat as the conversation she had barely heard retroactively started to make highly unpleasant sense. Dualscar had brought a prisoner, and that prisoner was an alien. Because that was exactly was Rose needed; another uncontrollable factor, another trump card for the Marquise to hold over her head. This situation obviously had room to deteriorate further. She had to deliberately force herself to open her eyes and raise her face, confirming the conclusion she had already reached. Her gaze met a pair of bright green, undeniably human and painfully familiar eyes.

"Jade." The whisper escaped her lips before she could stop it. "No." Rose had certainly hoped that her friends were alive and that she would see them again, but _not like this_. Rose didn't need anyone to share this with her. Jade already looked battered, with a black eye and various bruises and scratches around the tears in her blue dress, and her otherwise so expressive face was blank and numb. That as well as the way she was standing stiffly without moving revealed that Mindfang was probably invading her mind as well. Jade didn't deserve this. Rose snapped her teeth back together and noticed vaguely that she was shivering, fighting silently against the seething, whispering black rage that threatened to destroy her.

Some of that might have been visible in her eyes, because the Marquise blinked and looked strangely at Rose before speaking to her, though when she did her tone was flippant. "Oh, _yes_. And thanks for confirming that you do know this one – I was almost worried that you'd try to deny it."

Of course. That was what she _should_ have done. The wise thing to do would have been to deny any connection, forcing Mindfang to deal with them separately, minimizing the risk that she'd use them as hostages against each other. It was too late for that, though, so Rose merely acquiesced to the fact. "Yes," she said. "Jade was on the same vessel as myself. It seems your assumption of its destruction was slightly misguided." She tried to keep the usual disdainful tone in her voice, but she could almost hear it cracking.

Mindfang motioned for one of her crewmembers to cuff Jade to another ring in the wall, then took a couple of steps forward to get closer to Rose. "I'll believe in your invasion fleet when I see it," she said dryly. "Meanwhile, you still have a lesson to learn. You do still remember what it was, don't you?"

"If I don't, I'm sure you'll remind me." 

Rose half expected the comment to be followed further abuse, but instead Mindfang put her hand gently on Rose's head, running her claws lightly through her hair and over her scalp in a mocking display of affection. "Come on, Rose," the Marquise said. "Tell me, who owns you?"

Rose suppressed an urge to close her eyes. "You, obviously," she said with steel in her voice. It was just words. It didn't mean anything unless she allowed it to. She deliberately avoided looking at Jade, who was being fastened with her arms above her head a mere few feet away. 

"Very good!" Mindfang smiled, twirling her fingers through Rose's hair. "I doubt some rough handling is enough to get you to see the error of your ways, but we're off to a good start. And as you've already noticed, now I own someone else, too." She glanced to Rose's left, and although Rose didn't follow Mindfang's eyes, she could see Jade starting to squirm through her peripheral vision, Apparently the Marquise left Jade's mind alone once she was safely cuffed to the wall.

"Rose," Jade said, her voice thick with frustration or fear. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen! Everything just turned out completely wrong."

Rose attempted a deep breath, but her chest hurt too much. "You don't say," she pronounced tonelessly, not turning her head.

"Are you alright?"

"Absolutely perfect. Never been better. Isn't it obvious how I'm overflowing with vigor and joy?"

Jade snorted a sad giggle. "Yeah, I know," she said. "At least we're both alive." For an instant Rose feared that Jade was going to mention the boys – or worse, tell her that they were dead. But instead she raised her voice to address the trolls. "You don't have to do this," she told them, as if she believed they'd listen. "It's not like we're a threat to you! You wouldn't _lose_ anything by having some basic decency and treat us like people! I even know some stuff about your—"

Mindfang nodded at the other blueblood woman who promptly slapped Jade hard across the face, shutting her up, and Rose flinched involuntarily at the sound. She wanted to feel relief at Jade's indomitable attitude, but all that sprung up in her mind was fear. 

Rose might have succeeded in convincing herself that she could handle Mindfang's games on her own behalf, but Jade's presence changed everything. There could be no doubt that Jade was going to be further hurt, possibly on Rose's behalf, and although logically one person's pain wasn't any worse than another's, and it was hardly Rose's fault that Jade was here, every instinct screamed to her to _do something_. And she could. She didn't have to be helpless. What kind of a friend would she be if she did nothing?

_No. Jade wouldn't appreciate it._

"So," Mindfang said, getting Rose's attention back. "Her name is 'Jade'?"

"Yes," Rose replied mechanically.

"Do you like her?"

Rose's mind was tensing even tighter than her battered body. Thinking was like wading through currents of hot pain and cold fear and dark promises of power. She could tell all too well where this game was going, and she didn't want to play. She didn't want _Jade_ to have to play. "Why?" she said. "I barely know her."

There was a barely audible sound of protest from Jade, and Mindfang chuckled. Then, without warning, she slammed Rose's head against the wall, hard enough to make the impact drown out everything else for a moment. "Rose," she said. "This is going to be one of the rules, along with 'do what I tell you to' and 'don't speak out of line'. _Don't try to lie to me._ "

"Stop it!" Jade blurted, eternally earnest, and Mindfang let go of Rose's hair. Rose was torn between gratitude and a renewed bout of fear. "Haven't you hurt her enough already? _Yes_ , we're friends! I know you're trying to protect me, Rose, but—"

This time Jade was silenced by a punch to the guts, and she spent the next few moments coughing and wheezing. Rose gasped, hot rage giving fuel to the darkness in her mind. She _could_ prevent this. She had the power. It was hard to remember why she was resisting so stubbornly.

"See?" Mindfang said, not even looking at Jade. "Up on deck, I think the phrase she used was 'best friend'. It seems to me it's pretty close to the red half of the grid." She let her hand drift down to Rose's chin, holding her face up in an imitation of gentleness. "But then again, if you really barely know her, you won't mind if she gets hurt, will you?"

 _Don't do this._ Rose finally managed to gather enough of her wits to speak again. "I thought you wanted your exotic aliens whole," she said, voice hardly more than a whisper. "How fickle of you to change your mind."

"Now, see, this is the serendipitous part. You're a new and interesting species, but I only need _one_ of you nice and whole for showcasing. And I really do like your looks better, so you should consider yourself lucky. I was going to teach you about being my possession anyway, so this is an amazing opportunity. Say goodbye to your old attachments, little alien."

 _You don't dare._ Rose found herself wordlessly shaking her head. One of the men behind the Marquise snickered, and another commented something about Mindfang's luck, but they sounded very far away.

Mindfang's hand left Rose's chin and traveled down across the gray fabric of her dress, pressing against her skin just hard enough to jolt the still forming bruises on Rose's chest. "I really hope my mates didn't break you too badly. If you're good, I'll get you a soothing slime bath once we're done with this. Perhaps a piece of grub loaf, too. I bet you're hungry by now. Something to look forward to." She patted Rose's side and started undoing the cuffs around her wrists.

It took an effort of will for Rose to remain on her feet once there was nothing holding her up. Standing properly rearranged the pain in her bruised body, and for a moment all Rose could do was to lean against the wall and concentrate on not throwing up, an effort that succeeded mostly because there was nothing in her stomach _to_ throw up. Her eyes darted over the eight trolls before her, all looking at her with varying degrees of amusement. She glared back at them, which seemed to amuse them more.

Mindfang went over to the cupboard and took out something, eliciting a string of desperate protests from Jade. No one listened, and this time Rose didn't resist the urge to close her eyes. The darkness behind her eyelids was broken by glimpsed tentacles and shining, monstrous eyes, but perhaps that was as it should be.

The Marquise touched her cheek and brought her back to reality. "Pay attention," she said. "Also, stand up straight."

"Right," Rose said. Straightening her back wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. Suddenly she felt light-headed.

"Very good." Mindfang smirked, her fangs flashing in the dim indoor light. "Now, like I said before, I'm not going to be forcing your hand here. You have to do these things on your own, or there's no point! But of course, if you don't _get_ it, I'll step in and control you to demonstrate what I want you to do, as many times as it takes for you to stop being difficult. It's not like you'll gain anything by struggling against this. Do you understand?"

Rose nodded.

"Let's start with this one," Mindfang said and handed Rose the item she had chosen from the cupboard. It was one of the whips, more precisely something similar to a cat o'nine tails. It had only eight tails, but there were sharp pieces of metal attached all over the strings, making it especially nasty. On some level, Rose noted that it would be capable of tearing through both clothing and skin if wielded with enough force. On another, she was surprised that her hand didn't shake when she received it.

She had barely closed her fist around the handle before whirling around, using every ounce of energy she could still muster to strike, aiming the whip for Mindfang's face and eyes. She realized in the back of her mind that this wouldn't _help_ , not with a whole crowd of trolls here to stop her, but she was running out of options. She sincerely doubted anything she did now could make the situation _worse_.

Rose's entire body jerked painfully when she realized halfway through the movement that she wasn't moving at all. Her limbs simply weren't obeying. She carefully flexed the fingers on her left hand, and no, she wasn't immobilized. But the Marquise's presence was right there, in her mind, just barely touching, just keeping her from even trying to attack. Rose's fists clenched, but that was it, then. Simple and elegant. No desperate last minute adrenaline powered bravado. It was almost a relief.

"I thought you were smarter than that," Mindfang chided. "Look, I'm giving you a target for all that aggressive spirit you need to get rid of. You should be thankful."

"You want me to hit Jade," Rose found herself saying. It wasn't a question.

"Yes. See, there's the intelligence I was expecting!"

"You're a coward!" Jade yelled at Mindfang. "You want to—to whip me or something, go ahead, but don't make _Rose_ do it! I thought Dualscar was a douchebag, but you're so much worse, how can you even—" She shut her eyes and it was obvious that she was fighting against tears. " _Fuck you._ "

"Well, you got the idea, Rose. Go ahead. Usually this is done on the back – but for the first strike, I want you to look at her face as you betray her. You belong to me after all, not to your people or to her." She patted Rose on the head. "If you hit hard enough you might only have to do it once, so get to action."

"No." The word echoed as emptily in the room as it did inside Rose's mind. She glanced at the whip handle. "I'm not going to do this." It was a matter of fact.

Mindfang sighed theatrically, and Rose's hand slowly raised the whip regardless. Of course it did. But it didn't have to strike. "I'm sorry, Jade," Rose said quietly. "But this is the only way."

"It's okay," Jade said, but her voice was shaking and there were tears running down her cheeks after all. "It's not your fault."

Rose realized that she was smiling. The darkness was so loud in her mind, promising her revenge, power, eternal servitude, and she wondered how she had resisted for as long as she had. This was what she was meant to be. Why struggle to stay helpless? What use was being Rose Lalonde if she couldn't even save herself, if she couldn't even save _one friend_? No use at all. 

She relaxed and let the horrorterrors in.


	25. John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A note on continuity: I'm _not_ changing anything about this story to incorporate new canon information that we didn't have before. It would be cool to write the Ancestors in the light of the alpha troll kids, but it'd be inconsistent to try it here. This story always took a left turn from canon before Cascade anyway.)

John shivered slightly as he ascended. He was exhausted again, covered in cold sweat and goosebumps even under three layers of clothing, and he had a vague headache coming on that he couldn't do anything about. It was hard work to keep his little air-filled life support system solid and stable and always racing upwards – it wasn't rocket science, but it could definitely classify as rocket magic. If he had had a rocket. Actually, it was just a huge sphere of surface tempered air swirling around him, and then a makeshift sunshield that used to be the metal-plated pointed roof of Redglare's old shed held above him to keep direct sunlight away. But it worked, because he was still alive, obviously.

He had long since passed the point where the temperature outside his bubble dropped from 'this is fucking cold' to 'this will freeze you solid for real'. He wasn't sure if it was cold at all right now, because it was mostly vacuum outside. Sometimes he sort of thought it might actually be burning hot. He didn't really feel it, of course – not as long as he kept his air bubble intact – but he could sense the ghost of a weird burn along the outer edges of the air he controlled. It might be the sunlight, or some kind of radiation, but he had been told that Alternia's atmosphere didn't filter the sunlight much in the first place, so it shouldn't be _exponentially_ worse here than on the surface. Maybe he'd get cancer from this, but that seemed like a stupid thing to worry about – his entire universe had had cancer anyway.

Keeping the temperatures separated was definitely the hardest part, even though he had figured out the trick to it before taking off. But keeping it up without faltering was _tiring_ , and he couldn't afford to slip. Not to mention that just keeping the bubble in place around him was harder than he thought it would be. It felt like the almost-vacuum around him was actively _tearing_ at the bubble, trying to rip it apart, like it really wanted John's bubble to be just as empty as the rest of this place. John guessed it couldn't be helped, because he _was_ doing a pretty unnatural thing, but he was stubborn. Besides, he would suffocate if he lost the grip on his air, and suffocating was not a thing Heroes of Breath did.

He knew what he was doing! This was not sheer tomfoolery, or at least he hoped it wasn't. The thought of Dave's predicament actually being a thing that was happening still made John's skin crawl, but the point was to get him out of the pinch, and that was pretty much all there was to say on the matter.

The Signless Karkat had seemed both exasperated and a little bit impressed by John's idea when the Dolorosa first told him about it. "If all aliens of your species were half as stubbornly foolhardy as you, you should either have died out long ago or been completely fucking invincible," he told John, frowning. "I know we agreed nothing is impossible, but look. You're talking about flying unaided through _space_. Extreme temperatures, no air, swarming protectalizers, uninterrupted sunshine, and did I mention no air? The reason we have shuttles and spaceships is because even the best troll psychics would be suicidal to try to go into space unprotected!"

John grimaced. "I'm not a troll psychic."

"No, but your powers are based on fucking _wind_! How the hell do you know you'll even be able to _fly_ in vacuum? And even if you can, how do you know you'll be able to keep that storm bubble you're talking about intact for long enough in that kind of environment?"

"I don't know for sure!" John said, gesturing wildly. "But _I have to try!_ It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that the situation is kind of bad! And if there is something I _can_ do I want to do it!" The alternative was to sit around and do nothing while someone was torturing one of his best friends. Nothing was not a thing he could or would be doing, not if it was _possible_ to help. He folded his arms over his chest. "Besides, if I fail, it'd be because it turns out flying for space on a windy thing is impossible, and that would be a pretty _stupid_ way to die, wouldn't it?" John had to grin at the thought. "Like Darwin Award level stupid. So basically I'm safe. Which Dave is obviously not, so why is this even an issue?"

Karkat had facepalmed, but admitted that John might be right. And he also had to admit that there would be a higher chance of success with a two-tiered attack plan than just a single attempt without back-ups. The rest was just ironing out the details.

Actually, John wasn't so sure about being safe anymore. Flying for space on a windy thing was obviously not impossible, but he was barely more than forty minutes up and already struggling with a mental exhaustion that sat in his brain like having to keep a heavy rock balanced on his head. He was totally breaking a whole bunch of laws of physics here. The sledgehammer the Dolorosa had bought for him was bouncing in a sling on his back, but he could barely feel it over the weight of the air. This wasn't even comparable to simply flying himself and two more people through the air some thousand feet above ground. He was surrounded by an enormous field of lethal almost-emptiness up here, and if he slipped up just for a moment, he'd be _so_ screwed.

And then, watching the ground shrink away below him – blurry cities and forests turning into a diffuse landmass with unfamiliar coastlines as the horizons started to bend and reveal the shape of the planet – it gave him a funny feeling. In the Medium, everything had been small and connected, but here he was departing from an actual reality-based planet with nothing but a simple shield of metal and wood and a flimsy bubble of air that he held together with his own powers to protect him. On the one hand he was flying alone _in space_ , and if that wasn't totally awesome, what was? But he felt very, very tiny. And it wasn't so much that he was _scared_ – not like when Redglare's dragonmom had blinded him – but it occurred to him that if this hadn't been for Dave's sake, he would have turned back long ago. Flying was no fun when there was no wind and you couldn't look up and you could barely see the ground, and this kind of effort wouldn't be worth it just for the hell of it. But then, did that mean that he was being more heroic than stupid? How could you even tell?

That _thought_ was what was being stupid, John decided. He wasn't planning on dying here, so it didn't matter what would happen if he did. He wouldn't be able to help anyone, that was for sure!

His resurrection earlier had left him nice and rested, which turned out to have been a bit of luck, though he definitely didn't feel rested now. According to the plan he should be about halfway to the right height by now. He wasn't sure he was on time, though. One of the numbers on the application he had received to track the station was height, and it hadn't quite decreased by half yet. He was flying as fast as he could, but perhaps that wasn't as fast as they had counted on. It would be bad if he missed the MedSat in orbit. John gnashed his teeth and tried to increase speed.

The tracker app had actually been a gift from Redglare. John couldn't really make heads or tails out of how it worked, but he got enough to watch the numbers and know that decreasing numbers meant he was getting closer. It was weird, but Redglare had turned out to be pretty helpful after the Signless Karkat was done talking to her. Not to the point where she'd come with them or actively go criminal of course, because she was still in love with the law or something. "There are still true crimes being committed that needs to be punished by law _and_ justice," she said. "The law must be molded and used in ways that are more just than destructive. It's more important than ever that I follow my chosen career now that I've begun to understand that." But she hadn't just let them go – she'd given them all sorts of information and advice, too. So maybe the Signless Karkat was right, and she wasn't _really_ a bad person.

She had even showed them a kind of classified animated map of the current homeworld protectalizers, meaning defence satellites that were there to shoot down Unauthorized Flying Objects. Both the Signless Karkat and the Dolorosa had insisted that those would be the worst problem, but it turned out that since most protectalizers were orbiting far above the MedSat, there were gaps in the coverage in lower orbit. The Dolorosa made some estimate of John's speed based on last night, and she and Redglare poured over the map together while Karkat contacted that friend he had aboard the space station and thanks to the wonder of teamwork they had actually come up with some kind of plan.

The gap they'd found for him was pretty tight with small margins for error, and he'd had to take off almost immediately and fly close to the same speed as he had overland. But it was the easiest possible route – a straight line upwards – and assuming he made the journey in time he'd arrive a whole orbit before the midday shuttle. The next possible gap hadn't been until many orbits later, which would be too late by any count. John glanced at the numbers on the tracker again and strained to keep up the speed. 

He was actually the most grateful to Redglare for the device she had installed the tracker app on, which was Dave's iShades. "To make up in some part for the injustice I have perpetrated," she said as she handed them to him. "Now go, and we shall all deny that we ever met." She did sound sincere, despite the shark grin. She'd started grinning like that again once she got her self confidence back, but John supposed it was just the way she was, like Terezi. What else would they do with all those teeth? 

Anyway, he was really glad that she returned the shades. Not just because they were ultimately portable and gave him instant access to pesterchum again, but because they were _Dave's_ , and she had had no right to them in the first place. The idea that she had just stolen them, and Dave being somewhere up there without any eyewear whatsoever was just... Well, wrong. Almost as wrong as everything else that was messed up about this situation. Which was way too much. John was wearing the shades himself at the moment because for now he needed internet access more than he needed his own glasses, but he would make a point of returning them to Dave the first thing he did when he found him.

And yeah. Internet access. The first thing internet access had given him was that message from Jade. He'd seen it as soon as he got online by his own chumhandle on the iShades, but it was timestamped five or six hours earlier. It had been both good and bad news.

GG: i am here, john!!!!!!  
GG: and now youre not :(   
GG: please tell me nothing happened to you!! :O  
GG: do you still have a computer?  
GG: i have my lunchtopshoes, but i havent been able to use them before now  
GG: im sort of a prisoner :/  
GG: but its okay im fine!!  
GG: im on a ship with eridans ancestor  
GG: did you know that trolls have identical ancestors??  
GG: hes a total douchebag like you can imagine but he was going to kill me and then he didnt... so i think he wont!  
GG: i think rose is with vriskas ancestor on another ship  
GG: please get back to me when you can!

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] is now an idle chum --

John had tried not to think too much about Jade and Rose, at least while he had absolutely no idea what had happened to them. Because he knew at least that _Dave_ was alive. But since he now knew from personal experience that being killed for existing on Alternia was definitely a thing that could happen it had been a huge relief to hear from the girls and know that it hadn't happened to them. Still, it did sound like they had problems, too. He had replied tentatively.

EB: hello?  
EB: jade?  
EB: are you asleep or something? it says you're idle.  
EB: for the sake of the argument i'm going to assume everything is perfectly alright. because sleeping is a very normal thing to do, especially for you!  
EB: we keep missing each other, like...  
EB: it keeps hapening!  
EB: anyway, you're a prisoner on a ship?  
EB: and rose is with THE marquise spinneret mindfang??  
EB: that's... wow.  
EB: ugh.  
EB: i'd try to find you right away, but i can't.  
EB: don't worry, i'm not in any trouble!  
EB: well, i died, but i got better so that's ok.  
EB: but dave is.  
EB: i mean, not dead, but in trouble! like really bad. :(   
EB: and i'm on my way to help him right now.  
EB: i'm typing this from his shades btw.  
EB: so basically, and this is a serious friendleaderly requestorder: you hang in there, ok?   
EB: and talk to me when you wake up! i'll still be online.

He wasn't _very_ worried. Jade and Rose could take care of themselves. But so could Dave, and... _Ugh_. Stupid trolls and stupid Ancestors and stupid fucked up Alternian society. He was sort of impressed that Rose had managed to meet Vriska's pirate hero, but then again, Vriska had been kind of nice to spend time with, but she _had_ admitted to being a mass murderer. And she was just a kid. It didn't help that Rose herself was silent, and Jade still hadn't replied after that.

He'd been trolled by someone else soon afterwards.

\-- artfulChronicler  [AC] began trolling ectoBiologist  [EB] \--

AC: :33 < *ac curiously paws at the new purrson approaching*  
AC: :33 < cg told me to contact you!  
EB: oh!  
EB: hey, i know you!  
EB: you're that catgirl troll!  
EB: or you're the ancestor of the catgirl troll, i guess?  
EB: who is also a catgirl.  
EB: and the insider friend i'm supposed to coordinate with, right?  
AC: :33 < h33h33  
AC: :33 < yes cg told me you come from the future and know our descendants!  
AC: :33 < you have to tell me efurthing about her later!  
AC: :33 < but i guess that is one of the reasons no one will believe what the dave kitten is saying :((   
AC: :33 < we dont get a lot of aliens from the future  
AC: :33 < its bad enough for the aliens from right now  
AC: :33 < but i think you already knew that  
EB: yeah...  
EB: please say we're not going to be too late.  
AC: :33 < were not going to be too late! *ac nods resolutely*  
EB: i agree!  
EB: how is he?  
EB: or do i even want to know??  
AC: :33 < well  
AC: :33 < theyre working on him now :((   
AC: :33 < but hes not going to be DEAD for a long time  
EB: ...  
EB: ........  
EB: ok, so the sooner i get there the better. :|  
AC: :33 < the sooner the better!  
EB: i'm going as fast as i can!  
EB: oh, and karkat said you'd be able to let me in when i get up there.  
AC: :33 < car-cat? :??  
EB: yes, that! beep beep meow!  
EB: actually, karkat is the name of his descendant, but he said i could use it. it's cg.  
AC: :33 < oooh :DD  
EB: speaking of names, did you really call dave a kitten up there?  
AC: :33 < yes  
AC: :33 < because hes small and cute and pitiful like a kitten! :33  
EB: uh.  
EB: i'll have to remember that.  
EB: i wonder if that is uncool enough to actually be cool again?  
AC: :33 < anyway, i can let you in  
EB: excellent.  
EB: is there a secret door or something?  
AC: :33 < sort of!  
AC: :33 < well, not a secret door, but there's an old airlock with a glitch that hasnt been repaired for sw33ps  
AC: :33 < it used to be a small docking port for xenomorph bioxperiment supplies but weve moved those, and the port is a bit overgrown, but i think you could get through if youre careful  
AC: :33 < its on the partition with the gr33n hullworms  
AC: :33 < right underneath a thick tangle so it’s a little hard to s33, but youll find it  
AC: :33 < its close to the middle, and its a tangle with no brown mixed in  
EB: right.  
EB: you aliens keep up being alien!  
EB: i'll remember to look for the *green* hullworms.  
AC: :33 < good!!  
AC: :33 < when youre inside ill tell you the places to skulk like a shadowbeast  
AC: :33 < also, when you get close to the station dont make any sudden movements or the automatic systems will pounce on you!!  
AC: :33 < just drift along and youll be boring space debris :33  
EB: got it!  
AC: :33 < i cant believe were actually doing this!!!  
AC: :33 < well all be culled like smacked b33s if the highbloods catch us being in cahoots  
EB: yeah. i know.  
EB: for what it's worth, i can hardly believe that you and the others are doing this either! but you have no idea how grateful i am!  
AC: :33 < h33h33  
AC: :33 < youre a brave little alien!  
AC: :33 < well s33 each other later!!

\-- artfulChronicler  [AC] ceased trolling ectoBiologist  [EB] \--

They _would_ see each other later, so John pressed on. 

The higher he came, the more the vague headache grew, forming an annoying throb behind his eyes. The pull of natural forces trying to rip his air bubble apart and scatter it in the emptiness grew too, and the effort to keep it from sucking away more than a few particles now and then was almost painful in itself. And he was sick of staring either up at the inside of the old roof or down at the slowly shrinking planet where he couldn't make out anything. But he didn't regret going. It wasn't _too_ horrible. He was exhausted like he was running a marathon – even though his legs weren't tired or anything – but like the marathon runner he thought he had found the right rhythm to keep going as long as it took. He _was_ the windy thing; it was him. Literally, because there was no wind in the almost-vacuum but him and his air.

John ascended.

\-- cardinalGift [CG] began trolling ectoBiologist  [EB] \--

CG: JOHN.  
CG: ARE YOU STILL WITH US?  
EB: yeah.  
CG: GOOD.  
CG: THAT'S A RELIEF.  
CG: YOU SHOULD BE ARRIVING THERE SOON, RIGHT?  
CG: IF YOU'RE STILL ON TRACK AND NOT ABOUT TO FALL FROM THE SKY IN A BLAZE OF LITTLE HORNLESS ALIEN FLAME.  
CG: YOU'RE DOING OK, AREN'T YOU?  
EB: i'm doing fine.  
EB: i'm tired, but...  
EB: i should be there soon.  
EB: won't fall from the sky.  
CG: HEH.  
CG: YOU'RE IMPOSSIBLE, AND I MEAN THAT IN ALL THE BEST WAYS.  
CG: ME AND GA ARE STILL WAITING FOR THE MIDDAY SHUTTLE.  
CG: IT DOES SEEM LIKE WE'RE GOING TO BE ABLE TO BOARD IT "LEGALLY", THANKS TO AC.  
CG: SO IF EVERYTHING GOES WELL, WE'LL SEE YOU THERE LATER.  
CG: I HAVE TO PUT THE COMPUTER GRUB AWAY IN A MOMENT, BUT I GUESS I JUST WANTED TO SAY  
CG: GOOD LUCK.  
EB: thanks.  
EB: you too.

\-- cardinalGift [CG] ceased trolling ectoBiologist  [EB] \--

It was true that he was doing fine. The headache was bad, and the bubble was leaking slightly more noticeably, but it couldn't be far to go now. The numbers on his tracker were decreasing steadily, though he couldn't tell if it was fast enough, and he couldn't go faster anyway. Not without dropping everything.

And then he was past the ninety minutes mark, and there were still numbers on the tracker stubbornly remaining above zero. He'd swear out loud, but that was stupid, so instead he drew a deep breath (how much oxygen did he have left anyway?), changed his course a little bit towards his left and redoubled his effort at speed. _He wasn't going to fail at this._

It was a shock when the makeshift shield suddenly broke into pieces above his head.

For a moment, everything was chaos. A flash of _something_ passed John's face by a hair; the air bubble shattered; an audible crash in his ears; pieces of wood and metal flying; too bright sunlight through both veil and shades. Instinctively, he gasped – but there was only frozen nothing to breathe.

The next heartbeat he reached desperately for wind, caught some of the scattering air before it had completely dispersed into the almost-vacuum and pulled it back to him, cold and only a fraction of what he had a moment ago but blessedly breathable. Parts of the shield came back with the force of the air, just fragments, but blocking out the brightest part of the sky. He glimpsed a fan shaped metal object far above him to the right, at the same angle the roof had shattered from, and yeah, he was off from the tight no-margins gap where protectalizers were not. _Crap._

It fired again, but John was moving by then. Not towards it, it was too far away, wrong direction, but speeding off to his left with every ounce of energy he had, shooting like a missile, and he didn't care if he lost air. His jaws were clenched hard enough that his teeth hurt, taking his mind off his pounding head and aching lungs at least a little bit. 

Maybe he just wasn't strong enough for this. Maybe this was stupid from the beginning and maybe he _would_ die again and maybe it would stick and maybe it wouldn't and maybe maybe maybe...

He didn't have _time_ to die. 

The broken pieces of the shield wobbled around him, but it didn't matter. The little air he had left was trickling in a trail behind him, but that didn't matter either. He couldn't even tell if his throat was freezing or burning. It felt like he was falling, only _faster_ , and not down.

For a second he could barely remember why he was here in the first place. He wanted to let go and stop hurting himself. Even plunging and burning to ash in the fall would probably feel better than to keep this up. He was cold and clammy and achy and _so tired_.

But he still kept racing towards the magical zeroes. Because it was important. Because... Yeah. Dave. Save Dave. Heh, that rhymes.

_Dave will kill me if he hears that._

_Dave will kill me if I die here._

John didn't have the strength to laugh, but he grinned weakly at himself and increased speed.

\-- artfulChronicler  [AC] began trolling ectoBiologist  [EB] \--

AC: :33 < *ac gr33ts mr space debris who has just b33n noted on the radar*  
AC: :33 < hello?  
AC: :33 < h3333llo?  
AC: :33 < *pokes at eb with a curious paw*  
AC: :33 < ummm  
AC: :33 < youre going pretty fast  
AC: :33 < ummmmm!!  
AC: :33 < thats the wrong side!!!  
AC: :33 < what are you DOING???


	26. Jade

"I'm sorry, Jade," Rose said quietly. "But this is the only way."

"It's okay." Jade struggled to keep her voice steady. She could feel the hot tears that she had tried to hold back break from her eyes. "It's not your fault." It definitely wasn't, and Jade didn't want to cry like this, but it was all too horrible and why did she have to be so utterly _helpless_? She'd survived Dualscar, she'd even found Rose, and now this. This entire _grubfucking slimesucking assbag_ of a planet was too awful, and not even Karkat's vocabulary could express it properly. She was scared and furious, and Mindfang was so much worse than Dualscar could even pretend to be. She couldn't even imagine what it would feel like to be in Rose's place.

_Oh Rose._

Jade squeezed her eyes shut on her tears and turned her face away as Rose raised that nasty-looking whip. Her wrists were bound too high for her to be able to cower, but she tried desperately to steel herself. This was going to _hurt_.

Moments passed. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. The pain she expected never came.

Instead, somehow it seemed like the temperature in the room dropped, and the already weak light grew even dimmer. 

"What the _fuck_?" she heard Mindfang exclaim. Something was happening.

Jade slowly released the breath she had been holding and raised her eyes, even though she didn't quite dare hope. Nothing had changed – they were still surrounded by eight adult trolls at least one of whom could take control of people's brains, and Rose was still standing in front of her with a multi-tailed metal-studded whip. But Rose was smiling. There was something _off_ about that smile, but Jade couldn't put a finger on it; and then, as she watched, Rose lowered the whip and tossed it away with an almost careless flick of the wrist.

Jade drew a shaky breath and almost laughed out loud. Rose was resisting the mind control! Mindfang's psychic touch had felt harder than a steel cage to Jade earlier, but Rose was breaking through; she was the _best_! It might not save them, but it felt so good.

"Don't you dare think this will gain you anything!" Mindfang snarled, and three of the other trolls reached for Rose as if to grab her. Rose didn't move, and her smile didn't change, but the trolls recoiled as if they had been burned before they even touched her. 

Jade blinked. Only now did she realize there was something flickering around Rose. Some kind of intangible darkness. And her smile... Strange and unnatural and too wide for her mouth. Like this somehow wasn't Rose at all, but something unknown and alien wearing her skin. 

"...what have you done?" Jade's voice came out a whisper, suddenly filled with a new and indefinable dread. Rose didn't reply, and Jade couldn't tell if she had even heard. 

Mindfang was cursing and shouting orders to take Rose down, and the trolls were drawing weapons around them, but Jade couldn't take her eyes off Rose. The flickering darkness grew stronger and densified into writhing black flames around her friend's body as if she was on fire, but the fire radiated nothing but icy cold. Rose's skin was blackening, not like a piece of wood being consumed by a hearth fire, but taking on a dull color almost as dark as the black flames. Her eyes shone like bright half moons against the darkness, and there seemed to be something unnamable wriggling beneath her skin. The very air was suffocating with something that really couldn't be described by any other word than _grimdark_. By now it was obvious to Jade what was happening, but it terrified her in a completely different way than anything the trolls had done. Rose had tried to apologize. But it hadn't been about the whip – it had been about _this_.

A troll woman with bright green on her coat whirled a staff towards Rose's temple, and a man in teal brought down the flat of a small axe towards her shin. Neither attack reached her. The darkness around her seemed to solidify into ragged tentacles lashing out in all directions, tearing through everything in their paths. Both weapons shattered, and black tendrils pierced large holes through the chest of the first troll, both legs of the second. Jade barely had time to register the screams before the tentacles were also breaking through the floor, the ceiling, the walls, everything. One smashed through the hull mere inches from Jade's right elbow, bringing the dark sea breeze into the room.

"Rose!" Jade yelled, shirking back instinctively, but she couldn't go anywhere. She was still tied to the wall, and Rose was defending them, and yes that was a good thing, but not like _this_! The room was quickly filling with brightly colored blood and screams of agony and panic from the trolls as tentacles ripped through them, seemingly at random, not even aimed to kill. There were shouts from other parts of the ship as well, where the black tendrils were reaching out. This room was starting to break apart, pipes and wires and strange organic tendrils exposed through the holes, everything crashing and crumbling. " _Rose!_ " Jade tried again. There was no sign Rose was listening.

"What the hell _are_ you?" Mindfang barked, backing up towards the far wall. She threw a handful of eight-sided dice on the floor with an angry flourish, but Rose's black flames spread and engulfed the dice, burning their eyes off before they even stopped spinning. The roll had no effect.

One of the other surviving trolls thought to go for Jade. It might have been the same troll woman who just punched her in the guts minutes ago, but now she pressed a razor sharp short sword against her throat. Jade pushed her head back against the wall and snapped her mouth shut, not daring to breathe. "Listen," the troll said to Rose. "Whatever it is you're doing, you will _stop_ , or this one is meat for the kitchen."

Rose tilted her head a fraction, flames and tentacles writhing around her. She could still hear, then. But by now Jade could hardly see more of her face than glowing eyes within a mass of living blackness, and even the slight movement seemed _wrong_ ; definitely not human and so much more alien than the trolls. Jade could have sworn Rose occupied more than three dimensions of space. _Dammit Rose, what have you done to yourself??_ The troll's sword hand was trembling, and Jade hissed in pain when the sword edge cut into the skin on her throat. 

The tentacle that shot out and struck a large hole through the troll woman's head and through the hull behind her seemed almost casual. Navy blue blood and brain splattered on Jade's face and dress. She shuddered violently even as the dead body sagged to the floor, and when she gasped for air she could taste gore in her mouth. Rose's black tentacles continued to thrash and destroy and maim as if nothing had happened.

"Rose, stop!" This wasn't _it_ , this was just gross and sickening and everyone was dying around them and how was this any better than Mindfang or Dualscar or anyone? Rose didn't pay her any attention – she might not even see her anymore. A new crewmember appeared by the door with dual pistols in hand, but he went down with a horrifying scream as a black tentacle went through his stomach and ripped him apart. "You don't have to do this, Rose, just get us out of here!!"

The room had turned into some kind of cold rainbow colored vision of hell, the air thick with blood. Brown and green and blue were dripping from the wounded on the upper deck though holes in the ceiling. The entire ship seemed to be echoing with agonized screams and panicked footsteps. A dying troll with an open hole through his guts tried to grab Jade's leg, but she kicked him in the face, her lunchtopshoe coming away yellow with his blood. 

" _Stop!_ " Mindfang roared, for once agreeing with Jade. She was still standing despite an ugly wound bleeding blue down her thigh, but she was backed into a corner now, and her ship was shattering around her. Her face was twisted in fury and concentration, like she was trying frantically to bring Rose back under her mind control and failing. Then she took a step, or maybe just shifted her weight; the broken floor crumbled and gave way under her and she disappeared from sight. All the other trolls that could be seen were all dead or mutilated or both, and both floor and ceiling and walls were starting to give way in more places than one.

Jade was struggling against the cuffs around her wrists, but they were still good solid metal, and so was the ring attached to the wall, and she couldn't budge them. Rose's writhing tendrils were lashing out everywhere, crashing through the ship around Jade again and again, and she knew Rose would never harm her but there was no telling to what degree the glowy-eyed creature before her _was_ Rose.

"Rose!" she tried again, straining her parched throat to be heard above the din. "Please! Just get me loose so we can get away from here!"

Rose didn't acknowledge her at all. Her feet had left the crumbling floor she had been standing on, and now she was hovering, floating upwards, tentacles swarming around her and breaking the upper deck further apart to let her through.

" _Rose!!_ " Jade yelled desperately. "Don't leave me here!"

It was hard to tell if it was a reply or a coincidence, but the next black tentacle striking out in her direction hit right above her hands, splitting the chain between the cuffs and the ring it was attached to. Gravity made her arms fall to her sides and her shoes thump down all the way on the groaning remains of the floor. It was a huge relief, but the suddenness and the awkward position made her stumble and bump against the wall. And then part of the wall gave way, falling outwards, and Jade fell with it.

Déjà vu. She was back to the start, falling handlessly into the tangy alien ocean with no idea where she was or how to get out of there. 

Jade resurfaced a moment later, spitting and shaking her hair out of her face, trying to clear her head. At some point it had started to rain, heavy drops of water making patterns on the surface of the sea. Wreckage was sinking around her and she could see the hole in the ship's side like a gaping wound. The way the crashing and creaking sounds mingled with the screams of the crew, it seemed the ship itself was dying. Looking up further, she glimpsed Rose as a growing mass of writhing tentacles, black on black against the night sky, hanging in the air somewhere between the masts. She was sending larger tendrils out now, spikes of darkness cracking through the air and ripping through not just the main ship, but the other two as well. It was hard to make out anything else, but there were bursts of light from the decks. She thought the trolls were trying to fight the monster, but they weren't doing very well. 

The _monster_. It definitely looked like a monster. But Rose had to still be there – she couldn't just be gone. Jade had to make her turn back.

Even more immediately, though, she had to not drown. She was physically stiff and bruised and emotionally exhausted, and the metal cuffs around her wrist weighed her down a lot even though the chain between them was broken off. The salt water stung in the shallow cut on her throat and on the rashes on her legs and in her bruised eye, but it also seemed to wash away some of the half-dried tears and cold sweat and troll blood and terror. She was actually _free_ all of a sudden. She could manage this. 

A few armstrokes took her back to the side of the crumbling ship. The outer hull was made of some kind of synthetic material made out to look like wooden planks, but it was too slick to the touch to hang on to. Just touching it made her feel through her fingertips how it was ripped apart by Rose's attacks, crumbling from the inside accompanied by the screams of its crew. The engine was still running, though, a faint vibration beneath everything else. 

Part of her insisted that it wasn't safe here – that she could be hit by falling wreckage or even struck by Rose's attacks herself – but then, where _would_ be safe? She could try to swim away, but she was sick of swimming aimlessly, and she wouldn't last long anyway. Besides, she couldn't leave Rose behind like _that_.

Eventually she found a diagonal crack in the hull in the stern part of the ship, enough to cling to with her arms and make an attempt to calm down with deep breaths. She was soaked, and the rain made sure she wouldn't be able to get dry. The water wasn't cold, exactly, but she was still shivering. Clinging to the crack, she felt the ship shake heavily followed by a great splash and rocking waves, and she guessed some huge part had been broken off somewhere closer to the bow. This part was still floating upright, but it was slowly starting to tilt. It would probably sink before long, and then what? Behind her, the sounds of death and destruction drifted towards her from one of the other ships.

She closed her eyes, but the screaming wouldn't stop. She could hear it even through the rain and the crashes and it hurt to listen to. She wondered how many trolls were on these ships – it had to be at least hundreds, maybe more. Most of them had never done anything to either of Rose or herself, and they couldn't _all_ be complete douchebags, could they? And even if they were, this was still a massacre. What Rose was doing wasn't about escape or even vengeance, it was just grimdark bloodthirst.

But still. Jade didn't doubt that Rose had done this to protect her. 'This is the only way,' she had said, and maybe it really had been the only way to get out of what Mindfang had planned. Rose would have been forced to whip her, and then... The way Mindfang had talked about it... No. Stop. Don't think about it. Think about what _did_ happen.

She bit her lip and didn't cry. Just because the alternative might have been beyond horrible didn't mean that she had to forgive Rose for turning herself into _that_. Especially not if she intended to stay that way and keep killing and destroying like a natural disaster on overdrive. Rose had barely seemed to acknowledge Jade's presence up there. Like she didn't remember her, or couldn't hear her, or just didn't care enough to even nod in her direction. 

Jade hadn't been able to see Rose personally when she had been taken by the horrorterrors during the game, but John had. And according to him it hadn't seemed to be like this at all. John had interacted with her and talked to her – though she hadn't been able to speak anything but 'eldritch gibberish' as John put it – and John hadn't had any problems with recognizing her as Rose even though he admitted to being a _little_ bit creeped out. 

Jade was a whole lot more than a little bit creeped out.

There was a thunderous crash behind her, and twisting around she saw a great chunk of the second ship fall away under the whipping black tentacles. Its main mast fell close enough for Jade to be rocked by the splash. Another crash told her that the third ship was breaking apart as well. She wanted to yell at Rose that this was enough, but Rose wouldn't have heard her from here even if she had been completely herself and willing to listen.

She was startled when something soft touched her back. She looked around and got a face full of thick troll hair. The body was floating face down, with one leg and part of the guts missing, still leaking sticky blood into the water. The night ocean was dark enough that it was hard to tell the color. Jade felt so sick that she might have thrown up, except she hadn't eaten anything at all for the last couple of days.

Of course there were bodies in the water; where else would the bodies be? This whole situation was a shipwreck in every sense. She couldn't let it get to her or she'd lose herself too. She might be clinging to a sinking ship in the middle of the ocean with one of her best friends making a good impression of a baby horrorterror above, but it wasn't all bad! She wasn't a prisoner anymore. Dualscar wasn't here and Mindfang was probably dead and no one around here was in any condition to try to capture her.

Rose might have turned into a grimdark horrormonster, but she wasn't dead. And she had done this to _save_ Jade. Damn it, they were _all_ verging on completely helpless here, even brilliant snarky Rose, because past Alternia wasn't a game designed to be played by human thirteen-year-olds. Rose had done the only thing she could, and now it was up to Jade to save _her_. There had to be a way to bring Rose back to humanity, and Jade would do it no matter what it took, and that was all there was to say on the matter. Unless something could be said about how. 

Jade banged her forehead on the wreck and tried to think.


	27. Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very dark.

When the cat troll told on him, there was a moment when Dave would have been hard pressed to tell the difference between himself and a deflated balloon. It was like his last connection to the human power grid just went down. Lights out. His legs folded beneath him like tissue paper. _Fine then._

What had he expected? To jump out a non-existent window and go frolic in the fairy troll forest? To have a mad cat lady smuggle him out in a handbasket? How pathetic and naive. _Face facts, Strider._ He was a FUBAR dead-end of a doomed Dave and nothing he did meant shit.

He wasn't okay with it. He was never going to be okay with it. But the Grand Motherfucking Highblood was right there, and Dave simply couldn't find the strength for more futile struggles against the inevitable. He was limp as a puppet as the bruiserguards – four of them this time – stripped his stolen clothes off again. The Puppet of Time. Gross, but Bro would have laughed at _that_ irony.

They fit him with some chafing metal collar, apparently supposed to suppress psychic abilities. Dave had not a clue if it had any bearing on leftover Sburb timeshit, but it mattered about as much as a caged crow's ability to open the bathroom window. The passing of seconds and minutes were still sharp in his mind, but anything beyond that was way out of reach. And even if it hadn't been, he'd never actually be able to get _away_.

It occurred to him that he didn't care. His face was blank again, no effort. Though he'd have believed it would feel better than this to have his cool back.

 _So this is what it feels like to give up._

The walk back through the corridors was a blur, barely registering. He might as well be dead already. Let's get it all over with.

Dave could feel his insides fill with shards of ice when he was spread out on the cold hard surgery table and strapped down, but he pushed the panic down with deep breaths. _It doesn't mean shit._

Troll surgeons in white masks and blue symbols started to prepare him for whatever. He could hear them talk to each other, but it was just sounds, almost meaningless. They showered him in slime, pressed some tube into his thigh by a needle and then gas tubes down his nostrils, but he didn't want to pay attention.

 _Lie back and think of England._ It couldn't be that bad. He'd been hurt before.

Reality was brought back into too-sharp focus when they dislocated his left shoulder. Slowly, methodically, until the joint popped out of its socket and Dave failed to clench his teeth hard enough to completely kill the cry that rose in his throat. _Fuck fuck fuck._ This was nothing, though. This was like the opposite of something. You can't die from a messed up shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will up endorphines.

The Grand Highblood chuckled from somewhere behind Dave's head. " **Now, little alien.** You messed up the schedule of these fine doctorturers. **With your little game of hide-and-cull.** But we're finally back where we're all supposed to be. **It's time to play _my_ game.** And I'm going to enjoy this. **Tell me,** why did you come to our motherfucking Alternia?"

Dave said nothing. It was hard to think when the surgeon trolls kept poking at his shoulder with needles and instruments, sending spikes of pain through his entire side. And talking would be as pointless as everything else. Nothing he said had a snowball in Texas' chance of making any difference. He might as well shut up and be chill.

"You have nothing to say." The Highblood didn't sound surprised. " **All the more entertaining to start that way.** You want to be a strong little motherfucker. **But you're not gonna run away no more.** No one's coming to bust you out. **Let's see how long it takes to change your mind about talking.** "

The Grand Highblood's voice dug into his mind in a way that was impossible to block out, and his shoulder flared like a neon sign that couldn't be turned off. But Dave kept his mouth and his eyes shut and told himself he could take it. 

His breath still hitched when they started cutting. He'd half expected them to just go ahead and gut him, but they didn't go there. They started on his right hand.

On the plus side, the scalpels were sharp, so the cuts weren't so bad as such. And hell, Dave was a swordfighter; a cut now and then was part of the deal. Except even though this should have been the same, it wasn't. This was slow and callous and precise, and worse, he was immobile and there was not a single thing he could do to defend himself. Every instinct in his body yelled at him to get up and do something, and he could almost hear Bro's voice scold him. _Sorry, Bro._

He screamed outright when they started to tear off chunks of skin. 

Something touched his hair, almost but not quite distracting from the pain. "Are you having fun yet?" the Grand Highblood asked. " **Bet you want some motherfucking elixir.** To kill the sick pain, **before it gets really fucking hideous.** "

If this wasn't fucking hideous Dave didn't want to know what was. Being chill was all nice and good, but it wasn't working. "You wouldn't," Dave gasped, perhaps only to distract himself. _shit no shitno whatareyoudoing_ The words he tried to say dissolved into a scream again. "You wouldn't give the painkiller," he managed, after. "So t'doesn't matter."

" **Maybe I won't,** and maybe I will. **It's all up to you, alien brother.** Your choice to make. **You give me a motherfucking testimony of truth,** with no pupa fairy tales, **and I'll hand you some mercy.** " The unseen hand ruffled his hair, almost gently. "Or your pretty little screams will entertain me until you're too hoarse to make a sound. **And even then the hurt will only ever get more wicked.** " He paused. "Why did you come to Alternia?"

Dave was panting now, but he still didn't reply. The truth _was_ a pupa fairy tale. He could tell it for days and he'd never be believed. But Redglare had already crushed his attempts at bullshitting, and now he couldn't even _think_. He refused to look at what the trolls were doing, but his hand was slowly turning into a shining beacon of pain, drowning out the throbbing shoulder. Every touch hurt like fire, and once in a while they did something that made his vision explode in white-hot agony.

The Grand Highblood seemed to be just sitting there, waiting for something. Eventually the tormentors were done with Dave's hand, and there was a brief respite where the pain was just an unchanging glare. And then they started putting scalpels to his feet. _shit no fuckno no please_. The underside of a foot couldn't possibly hurt that much, it just wasn't a thing that happened. Even his sense of time was starting to drown under a shitload of _fuckyouithurts_.

He was screaming again, but he forced himself to make words once he was able. "Why don't you just. Just fucking kill me already!?"

The Grand Highblood gave a breathy laughter at that. " **Motherfucking no,** " he said. "We aren't hardly getting started with you yet. **And there's no fun and no homeworld profit in killing you off.** " He patted around in Dave's hair, as if looking for his horns. "Go ahead and beg, **but do it right.** Tell me your little secrets."

There was nothing he could do. Wrong place, wrong time, screwed-up timeline, fucking inevitable doom. Dave _would_ be chill about it, except this hurt more than shit should ever be allowed to hurt, and every cut just made it worse. He opened his eyes, and there were tears running down the sides of his face though he couldn't remember starting to cry. "Fuck you," he said. "I have no secrets."

" **Then why did you come to Alternia?** "

He was breathing in uneven gasps between whatever cries he couldn't suppress. He couldn't _think_. It was just too much. And he had nothing to lose. _shitshitshit just make it stop_ "An accident," he managed. "Really. Spaceship got lost on the spacelanes."

The Highblood hummed pleasantly. "What kind of a spaceship would this be? **What kind of a course was it on?** How many were aboard, **of what kind of species?** "

There had to be some good answers to these questions. Some right answers. But Dave didn't know them. The Highblood laughed at his attempts to answer. The other trolls kept working, moving on to his knee. It was like trying to think through a red curtain of agony that was only getting thicker. He tried to think, to say something, but they were doing something to his kneecap, and he could only scream. He could barely keep a thought straight between one touch and the next, but he had to try.

He should be dying. Bleed out. Fade away. But then there should be blood dripping everywhere, and he couldn't see it. The pain didn't even get duller. It was sharp and red and they kept _adding_ to it. He couldn't think. He had to make them stop.

" **How did you get past homeworld security?** Where did you land? **How many trolls have you been in contact with?** "

They were doing something with his arm muscles now. Raw and red and exposed. He glimpsed a small tong. They pulled something. Scratching bone. He screamed, then tried to talk, because maybe if he said the right thing they would stop. Or the pain would. He barely knew what he was saying anymore. 

He wanted to black out. If anything was fair he should be going unconscious.

"Who is Terezi Pyrope? **How many of your species exist on Alternia?** What is the meaning of the word 'Sburb'?"

They pressed his chest down. Put a scalpel to a nipple. His vision went white for a full second. He could barely breathe. But he couldn't stop breathing. Everything was too sharp, pain, voices, touches, pain.

 _Make it stop. Please makeitstop._ There was a vague ticking beat in the back of his mind, but he could barely remember what it meant, much less do something with it. It hurt too much. Every place they had worked on was like a star that kept burning, and they wouldn't _stop_. He had to find the right things to say.

The Grand Highblood made him shut up with another loud laughter. " **Your bullshit ain't getting any better,** " he said. "Even though your screams are. **Like a newly hatched wiggler in caught in the jaws of a caligator.** But I think you're trying to stall for time. **You imagine you'll get to have a dark nap and kill the wicked pain on your own.** Maybe you even got it in your pan that this treatment will kill you dead any time soon." He gave Dave's scalp a sharp poke with a claw. " **You're amusingly mistaken.** Bonedust, you tell this thing just why he's not turning his own pan off anytime soon. **In simple words.** "

Fuck it. Of course his bullshit wasn't making sense. He knew that. Not when he had to fight thick red agony to get every word out. But it was better than not trying anything. Perhaps he _was_ just waiting to pass out. It was the best he could hope for.

The surgeons looked up from Dave's chest, and Dave thought he glimpsed one of them roll his eyes. "Standard procedure for lucid vivisection," the masked troll said with an annoyed sigh. "The hemostasis spray seals ruptured bloodvessels to prevent unnecessary bloodloss, and intravenal supplements counter the loss of blood and energy that does occur. As for consciousness, the elucawaritation gas pumped into the lungs by the nose keeps the higher functions of the nervous system alert in most sentient species. There are other methods to use for specimens where that is unusable, but it seems enough in this case."

"And those are 'simple words' for a fucking 'ripper," the Grand Highblood grumbled. " **I'll make it shorter:** They make it so you can't pass out. **It's a motherfucking miracle.** Don't you think?"

Dave's body was a haze of red-hot fire, and much of the surgeon's explanation went over his head, but he thought he got the gist. They were making him stay alive and awake. _fuckyou just killmealready_

"Go ahead with your work," the Highblood told the other trolls, and they did. 

Dave screamed again when they ripped more skin off.

The Grand Highblood waited until Dave was quieter to continue. " **Meanwhile, _Dave_ ,**" he said, and the way he pronounced the name was nails on a blackboard. "I can stay here for nights. **And listen to you scream.** I don't mind that. **It's motherfucking high-grade entertainment.** But it's never too late for you to give your toll to the empire and get your motherfucking drug. **It's always your choice.** " 

When Dave didn't manage to reply, he felt a hand softly stroke his wet cheek. "Let's start this over. **And this time.** You can give me the answers good and true. **Why did you come to Alternia?** "


	28. John

John found himself sprawled on his side somewhere in the angle between a gray metal floor and a gray metal wall. Everything was gray, and blurry, but there was air. He was swallowing air like it was the sweetest thing – how come he had never realized how good it tasted to breathe?

His body was filled with a weird mix of vague ache and numbness. A soreness in his back told him that he had bumped into the wall with some force, but he couldn't really remember it. There were a lot of squiggly green lines that didn't seem to make any sense in front of his eyes, and beyond that he could see his hands wearing the stained black sleeves and black gloves of the suncoat. They seemed to be clutching the sledgehammer, but he couldn't feel his fingers. He tried to let go of the hammer, but his hands barely even twitched. Somehow that was funny.

John didn't think he had passed out at any point, but everything that just happened seemed sketchy in his memory. He remembered seeing the space station from outside. He remembered being desperate, and the horrible way his lungs hurt. He thought he also remembered bashing the sledgehammer against the outside wall with all the force of his speed and his muscles and whatever his windy thing could do to help. And then some gross yellow fluid, and then _air_. And then he ended up here. Which meant he was inside. Also, not dead. That was nice.

He was still doing the windy thing, actually, just a little bit, keeping air close to him. It was almost reflexive now, and easy when he didn't do anything else at the same time. Beyond his hands his sight grew blurrier, but he could see part of the hole he had made. It wasn't gaping openly anymore. It was filling up with... yellow worms? Like it was trying to seal itself in some alien way. Wait. Worms? In the outer hull? That sounded familiar. Heh.

The air was so sweet. It was hard to focus on anything else, but he probably should. Like moving? But then he realized again that he couldn't, and it was all so silly. Alternia and the trolls and the alien stuff and the messed up laws and the space station in orbit and the fact that they'd tried to cheat their way out of a game and ended up in the wrong era on the wrong planet in the wrong damn universe. Before he knew it John was giggling, then laughing out loud. He felt drunk. Not that he had ever been drunk, but he figured it'd feel something like this. Could you get drunk on air?

When his body finally stopped shaking in spasms of laughter, he found that his arms and hands were a bit less numb and a bit more achy, so they were probably still attached to him after all. Alright then. He finally managed to make himself let go of the hammer, slowly and carefully, then groaned and shakily pushed himself up to a sitting position against the wall. He felt sort of dizzy and it was like his skin was numb and the ache was down in his bones. Now he started to shiver too, like he was cold. This wasn't funny at all. Except it was. But it wasn't! It occurred to him that he might be in shock or something. That was stupid, though.

It would probably be a good idea to move. It would be a whole lot less funny if someone found him like this. And he had to find Dave – preferably like three hours ago. _Dave_ might have managed that if the roles had been reversed. That was for some reason funny too, but John managed to stop himself before the new giggle turned into another bout of laughter. He had to get up. Come on, legs!

He stumbled to his feet with the support of the wall. His body was all stiff and weird and trembling, and his vision wobbled when he rose. Wow. So yeah, in conclusion, unprotected spaceflight wasn't all that healthy. He kept one hand against the wall and flexed the other in front of his face, trying to soften it up. It still felt numb, like he couldn't quite feel the gloves on his fingers.

John had to blink hard several times before he managed to get a coherent look around. It seemed he was in a narrow room without doors. That didn't make sense. Why would anyone make a room without doors? Unless – it kind of looked like part of a corridor? Maybe if the short sides were some kind of firewalls?

 _Oh._ They knew he was here then, didn't they? He leaned back against the wall and rubbed his arms, trying to get some sense back into them, and into his head too. He really had to get himself together. He really _really_ had to move! His eyes were blurry and his eyeballs felt weirdly icy, and there was still that strange green stuff, and – it was text messages, wasn't it? That was such a totally stupid realization; of course it was text messages. Dumb dumb _stupid_. John giggled helplessly while he blinked again and finally managed to bring the text into focus. It was long, mostly a bunch of frantic typing asking if he was alright or alive and telling him to answer already. Shit, she must have been worried.

AC: :33 < answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer answer  
AC: :33 < come on  
AC: :33 < answer  
AC: :33 < oh god if youre dead the hbs will find this log on your com device and im chewed too :((   
AC: :33 < ...i shouldnt be doing this  
AC: :33 < *ac paces back and forth*  
AC: :33 < you have to be alive though!  
AC: :33 < dead things of your mass would just bounce from the hull  
AC: :33 < but you clawed right through  
AC: :33 < hurry up and answer  
AC: :33 < you have less than three minutes now  
AC: :33 < :CC  
AC: :33 < two and a half  
EB: two and a half to what??  
AC: :33 < !!!  
AC: :33 < until the hull is sealed and the airwalls open for the guarterminators to pounce on you!  
AC: :33 < no time to lose just listen to me  
AC: :33 < dont try to fight them!  
AC: :33 < and if youre wearing a suncoat keep it on, hood and all  
EB: ok...?  
AC: :33 < you have to surpurrise them and dash off before they shoot you and take you down like a little alien fairy bull  
AC: :33 < when the walls open  
AC: :33 < go to the right side if you have your back against the outer hull  
AC: :33 < swish past the guarterminators as fast as you can!!  
AC: :33 < turn left at the first intersection  
AC: :33 < then into the second door to the left  
AC: :33 < and then UP!  
AC: :33 < there are places to scurry off and hide for a moment  
EB: wait.  
EB: you're saying there are people ready to shoot me right outside both these walls?  
AC: :33 < yes :((   
EB: how do i surprise them then?  
AC: :33 < i dont know  
AC: :33 < they dont know what you are, so maybe  
AC: :33 < ...can you break through the airwall before it opens!?  
AC: :33 < with your alien psionics??  
EB: maybe!  
AC: :33 < hurry!

John looked at the firewall to his right, then realized that she was talking about the one to his left, since he was facing the outer hull right now. Both firewalls looked extremely heavy and solid, though. And airtight, of course, if they were protecting the station from the hull breach. All the surfaces were airtight here, and even the hole he had made was filled up with worms and wasn't trying to suck away his air all that strongly anymore.

Normally, he'd say that he could bash through one of these firewalls if he had a few minutes and a good hammer – he was his dad's son _and_ a magic hero after all – but he didn't have a few minutes, and he really didn't feel all that strong right now, not with the numbness and the shivers and all. On the other hand he _had_ somehow bashed through the outer hull in a single smash, so it was obviously possible. Time to improvise.

His hands were clumsy, and the hammer felt stupidly heavy when he bent to pick it up again. His arms trembled like he was too weak to swing it properly. But that was nonsense. He closed his eyes and forced himself to hold it steady. He might be a little off balance, but he'd made it all this way, and he wasn't going to let himself get caught before he even found Dave! Surprise the guards and run off to some skulking place; he could manage that for a first step.

He focused on the air. Air was a weapon if you used it right, and although there was neither enough space nor enough air for a tornado in here, there had to be something he could do. Perhaps if he could compress it...

Holding his breath, he concentrated on pressing as much air as possible together in one small sphere, then placed that sphere right in front of the firewall. The throbbing headache behind his eyes returned immediately when he started manipulating the wind, reminding him that he was still mentally exhausted, but that was totally irrelevant. He'd spent too much time being collapsed already! He swung the sledgehammer as much with willpower as with muscle, letting the pressurized air go just as he hit it with the full force of the punch, and the result was devastating. John's shoulders and arms rang with the impact, but the firewall scrunched in on itself with a deafening crash, breaking from the floor and the left wall and tearing a piece of the ceiling and the right wall along as it snapped outwards. Dad would have been proud.

John didn't want to think of his dad. He was taking off from the floor and zipping past the crumpled firewall even as screams and yells erupted from the trolls on the other side. He glimpsed their black hair and bright orange horns, but half a heartbeat later he swung to the left at the intersection. Some kind of gunshot was fired behind him, missing its mark.

The second door to the left. It was closed. There was no sign of a handle, even, so John simply smashed it in with the hammer and threw himself inside. The footsteps of the guards were already turning the corner behind him.

He was almost taken aback by what looked like a grove of weird alien living worm-mushroom-pillars in the room inside. They were connected to each other with slimy tendrils, and there were more of those yellow worms – or maybe worm-like tentacles – stretching out from the pillars and into holes in the floor and ceiling. But stopping to stare was not an option. Then last direction had been 'up', so he dove upwards into the closest hole, squeezing himself in between the tentacle worms. He shuddered, but he wasn't sure if it was because it was gross or because he felt cold or because of something else. The catgirl had a point; this was a hiding place.

From the airflow he thought there were several paths breaking off into different directions, but it was too dark to make out a thing with his eyes. John didn't stop to think about it but pushed himself upwards, though the passageway was way too narrow for comfort and already half-filled with tentacle worms. He heard someone kick in the broken door below, and then he could vaguely make out a few harsh voices, quickly muffled by the worm things and the distance. He didn't think they could follow, though. The shaft he ascended through was blank and slippery on the inside, and couldn't have been more than two and a half or three feet wide. John wasn't exactly large, but he still had to squeeze himself up among the soft yellow worms. Kind of the exact opposite of flying in empty space.

It was a little bit of a relief when the shaft split and he could take a horizontal path. Letting the windy thing go eased up on his stupid strained headache. He kept crawling along for a bit longer, wriggling his stiff arms and legs to put some more distance between himself and the guards, only stopping when he felt the tunnel split into a lot of different directions. This had to be enough. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, only to find himself fighting back a surge of panic.

He was being crushed. Again. By the walls and the tentacles. It was cramped like a coffin and he could barely move, and it was also pitch black and dead silent except for his own breath and a slight shuffle of the worm things. And the worm things were _everywhere_ , pressing in on him. And then all the clothes and the stupid suncoat hood were restricting him even more. This was a trap! How the hell was he going to get out? What if he was completely lost? He didn't have nearly enough leverage to smash himself out even if he could reach the hammer which he couldn't. _Shit shit shit._

No. Shut up, stupid. It was just a kind of tunnel, like a cave, and the catgirl wouldn't have told him to go here if these pipes seriously _ate_ people. Even though it felt like being swallowed whole by a giant monster that also happened to be a space station, it _had_ to be okay. Maybe it was more like sneaking through the air ducts like Bruce Willis in Die Hard. Except all alien. He might be hyperventilating, but it made him realize with relief that at least there was air in here. Good air. It wasn't even old and stale, but nice and fresh, and actually it felt like it came from the tentacles. Which was weird and probably pretty cool.

So it wasn't that bad. Really. And with all of these squiggly worms everywhere it was probably just as well that a good part of his skin still felt numb, or he'd probably be grossed out by them, too. He was still shivering. His arms and legs felt like especially twitchy lead. He probably _was_ cold. Or chilled down or something. Hypothermia? Space travel sucked. But he'd be fine; he didn't think it was cold in here.

John made himself relax and focused on what he was supposed to be doing.

EB: i made it.  
EB: i'm inside a... tube of tentacle worms?  
EB: btw, ew.  
AC: :33 < ...phew  
AC: :33 < *ac sinks down with her tail around her nose*  
AC: :33 < *not that she was nervous, of course*  
AC: :33 < what happened out there?  
AC: :33 < you came in through the compurretely wrong place, and then you didnt answer for furever  
AC: :33 < are you alright?  
EB: yeah. i was sort of out of it for a while, but i'm ok now!  
EB: except kind of cold, and also cramped, and sort of wondering if these worm tentacles are going to eat me.  
AC: :33 < h33h33, of course not  
AC: :33 < those are hullworms  
AC: :33 < youre inside the worm system!  
EB: anyway, how do i find dave?  
AC: :33 < well  
AC: :33 < first, you should probably k33p moving around  
AC: :33 < but dont get lost!  
EB: uh.  
AC: :33 < the station helmsman is very old and kind of half dead  
AC: :33 < she probably wont be able to tell exactly where you are, because her worm connection is going dull  
AC: :33 < moving around will confuse it more!  
AC: :33 < its better if the minidrones dont find you right away  
EB: yes. i agree.  
EB: but i don't know about not getting lost.  
EB: i can barely tell where i am now! i can't see a thing, and it's all a really cramped maze.  
AC: :33 < oh mew  
EB: would it help if i send a few gusts of wind blowing through these tunnels?  
EB: with confusing the sensors, i mean.  
AC: :33 < oh!  
AC: :33 < i think so!  
AC: :33 < thats a good idea! :33  
EB: ok!  
AC: :33 < *ac hopes that will buy us a while*  
AC: :33 < can you pawsibly tell me apurroximately where you are?  
AC: :33 < did you purroc33d straight up from the hub?  
EB: yes.  
EB: up from the first... pillar thing? and then when the tunnel split i went sideways instead.  
EB: and now i'm at the first junction after that, i think.  
AC: :33 < hmmmmm  
EB: yes, hmmmmm.  
EB: i really don't like this place.  
EB: maybe i should have attacked those guards.  
EB: i might have been able to take them!  
EB: and then you could have guided me directly to dave. and i wouldn't be stuck up here.  
AC: :33 < no no no!!  
AC: :33 < that would have b33n really bad!  
AC: :33 < for one thing, it would have been a huge frisk  
AC: :33 < i mean, risk  
AC: :33 < the guarterminators are plenty dangerous  
AC: :33 < and for another thing, even if you culled that whole team  
AC: :33 < there would have been evidence for exactly what kind of creature you are  
AC: :33 < so the highbloods would guess what you want and stop you from reaching your friend  
EB: they don't know i'm human?  
AC: :33 < no  
AC: :33 < no one even knew fur sure you were a living thing  
AC: :33 < it was just a mystery hull break  
AC: :33 < but i heard from the speakers just now that there is a grade two security break because of an "unknown psionic insurgent from the planet"  
EB: so they think i'm a troll!  
EB: that's good, i guess.  
AC: :33 < anyway  
AC: :33 < the plans a mess because you came from the wrong direction  
AC: :33 < and because youre already being hunted  
EB: i'm sorry :(   
AC: :33 < but your location isnt all that bad!  
AC: :33 < its not that far from where the kitten is  
AC: :33 < ill just have to hurry up and  
EB: ?  
AC: :33 < distract the grand highblood ._.  
AC: :33 < you cant fight him, so dont even think about it  
AC: :33 < it doesnt matter what powers you have  
AC: :33 < EVERYONE is his chewtoy  
EB: and he's... with dave?  
AC: :33 < yeah  
AC: :33 < but i think i know what to do!  
AC: :33 < im just...  
AC: :33 < nevermind  
AC: :33 < ill tell you where to go

John told himself he was more comfortable with the cramped tentacle tunnels knowing that they would get him somewhere. Hopefully the catgirl knew where she was leading him. Otherwise he really _was_ getting himself totally lost. Then again, as he sent out small tight whirlwinds through the tunnels once in a while, he sensed that only some of the surfaces around him were airtight – some actually seemed to be pretty thin. He supposed that was kind of reassuring.

After a few twists and turns in the cramped darkness, John was directed through a horizontal tube that gradually filled up with some kind of horribly stinking slime. It made it harder to breathe again, but no, it was still better to keep moving forward than to get stuck in there, so he tried very hard to ignore it. Eventually he reached a tall, narrow vertical shaft that for once was empty of tentacles. The stench was almost unbearable, like something very, very rotten. The sides of the shaft were covered with a thick layer of that stinking slime, and John thought there were pieces of something harder stuck in it too. He was almost glad that it was too dark to see.

The catgirl told him that it was a waste chute. If you believed the Karkat back in the game that was a troll word for asshole, so that was some extra eww. Although in this case it was probably just literally a hole for dumping garbage, and _no_ he wasn't suffocating, so he shouldn't complain. Complaining about stinking garbage would just be petty in the circumstances. He wondered briefly what was at the bottom of the shaft, but decided again that it was good that he couldn't see.

He was to go through a hatch some three or four feet above the entrance into the shaft. John's fingers were still too numb to feel around in the slime very efficiently, but he could actually feel the very slight draft coming from there, so it wasn't extremely difficult to find.

EB: is this where dave is?  
AC: :33 < no  
AC: :33 < this is for the distraction  
AC: :33 < listen  
AC: :33 < get inside this room and break the ceiling on the fur side  
AC: :33 < i mean far side  
AC: :33 < there are more hullworms there  
AC: :33 < you should blow some wind thing on them too  
AC: :33 < you want them to know youve b33n here and pawsibly that you went that way  
AC: :33 < and then  
AC: :33 < when i tell you to go  
AC: :33 < you go back into the waste chute  
AC: :33 < on the opposite side of the chute, maybe 12 feet up theres the one chute hatch to the place you want to go to  
AC: :33 < thats where the kitten is  
AC: :33 < but dont go now or the gh will be there!!  
AC: :33 < *ac's tail twitches nervously*  
AC: :33 < ill get him away, though  
EB: right.  
EB: thank you!  
EB: also, good luck.  
AC: :33 < you need it more  
AC: :33 < ill be back in a little while

The hatch didn't open just by pushing it from the inside, of course. For a moment, John felt stumped by that simple fact. There wasn't enough space to blow the hatch open by force either, so what was he supposed to do? The stench didn't make his head throb any less, and he was very much aware that he was hanging suspended on the wind in the middle of a dark slimy shaft where there was barely enough room to turn around. And every time he stopped moving he seemed to be shivering again. Part of him wanted to skip this part and just go up to where the catgirl said Dave was, but no. She was taking risks to help them, and John told himself sternly not to mess up anything more. Besides, if he was defeated by a closed hatch, he definitely wouldn't have a chance against a troll boss!

He bit his lip and blew some wind through the little cracks around the hatch. The actual latch thing didn't seem to be very large. All he had to do was to press some air inside the simple mechanism and expand it, pushing the latch away, and the hatch opened. Hah! That wasn't so hard after all.

The room on the other side wasn't exactly bright, but it was light enough after the complete darkness that John had to blink. The first thing he noticed was a horned skull glaring at him through empty eye sockets. John jerked back instinctively, but the skull just kept glaring, which was obvious because that's what skulls do. Actually, it wasn't just one skull, but a whole collection of them, neatly arranged on a tall table. Wow, that's special.

John slipped out through the pipe and into the room, for a moment he forgot about the skulls – just having some space around him felt better than such a simple thing should have any right to feel. He stretched out his arms and legs and actually felt a lot better. He still felt cold, and part of the stiffness might have become worse because he'd been caught in a tight space, but everything still worked, and he wasn't crushed or anything. Some of the numbness in his skin was finally starting to turn into itchy tingles. He rubbed his arms and legs and put his feet down on the floor, then took a closer look at the skulls.

They were troll skulls, of course. Even apart from the horns the bone was too orange and the teeth too sharp to be human. They had all sorts of horn shapes. Fortunately he didn't see any that he recognized in particular. That would be really sad, to be able to recognize a friend's skull by the horns.

Looking around, he noticed a painted mural on one of the walls – some kind of abstract but somehow disconcerting landscape in bright colors. Around it were several wall scrolls with similar paintings. At least he thought they were wall scrolls, until his eyes fell on one that wasn't finished yet, and then a couple that weren't painted at all. They weren't made of paper or cloth or anything. It looked more like... gray leather? Shit. John swallowed. These trolls weren't just evil and murderhappy and messed up, they were also very creepy. 

There were some more furniture in the room, including some kind of drawer and something that looked very much like a closet, but John didn't care to look. In a place like this, there were probably literally skeletons in the closet. Instead he went over to the far side of the room, took a deep breath, and lifted himself up to smash the sledgehammer into the ceiling. He was showered with plaster, but rewarded with a small crack that seemed to lead somewhere. His arms protested, but if he was going to make a hole then he was going to make a hole, so he swung the hammer several times until he had opened up enough that it would have been possible for him to crawl through. The catgirl had been right, there was another tunnel of tentacle worms passing through there, though these were more brown than yellow.

John sent a hard gust of wind through the exposed hole, then returned down to the floor, panting. He was such a mess. He was going to sleep for three days straight after this was over. After they all got to safety _somehow_. Jade still hadn't replied back, and Rose hadn't said a word from the beginning. But he had almost reached Dave, and once he did – well, then they only had to stay safe until they could get out of here. No collapsing. Dave might not be in any condition to fight at all.

The black suncoat was all covered with slime. That wasn't so bad in itself, but he supposed he was actually glad that he had the coat and the hood, or else _everything_ would be covered with slime, including Dave's shades. That would have been even messier. And now he realized that the coat was torn, too. He had no idea when that had happened. There was a long tear on his left side, and a strip of black cloth was hanging almost by a thread. He snorted and tore it off properly, dropping it on the floor. It was just telling the trolls that he had been here, being a perfectly Alternian person wearing a perfectly Alternian suncoat.

He was crouching on the floor, wondering idly if there was anything better he could do with a strip of slimy black suncoat cloth while he waited – perhaps hide it inside a skull? – when he suddenly didn't have to wait any longer.

AC: :33 < eb!!  
AC: :33 < GO NOW!!!  
EB: i'm going now!!


	29. Jade

Jade clung to the remains of Mindfang's main ship as it rocked and crashed. It was like being in a thunderstorm without lightning, and she could actually have used some lightning. The Alternian moons were completely hidden in the rain by now, and the lights on the ships were going out as well, turning the world into a wet, miserable darkness.

For now she was trying to ride it out and survive, although she hated how that was pretty much all she'd been doing ever since arriving on this planet. The roseterror was hanging in the sky and blasting ships and trolls to pieces, and Jade was stuck down here in the sea with no way to climb back up. The hull was too sheer and the crack too narrow, even if climbing hadn't been an utterly stupid idea when everything was breaking apart. But it was going to be alright; it _had_ to be alright, and Rose had to calm down enough for Jade to reach her sooner or later.

She was so tired of being scared. Being angry was better, but right now she didn't even know what to be angry at, except _everything_. It was all such a mess. She was insanely thirsty, too.

There was another humongous crash above, closer and louder than any before. Jade shoved herself away from the hull on pure instinct, an instant before her arms would have been crushed by half the ship's weight. The crack clamped shut, rocking the wreck, and the next moment a good part of it started to fall outwards with that very crack as the folding point. 

Jade felt more than saw the movement. She dived – which was all too easy with the heavy metal shackles around her wrists – and managed to avoid being smashed between the falling wreckage and the surface of the sea, but she still ended up underneath the broken-off hull. The tangy water was much too dark for her eyes to do more than sting, and feeling a rock-hard ceiling pressing her down and keeping her from the air was enough to bring a rush of panic, but she only needed two strokes to get clear. Kicking herself back up was heavy, and there was rubble everywhere, both sinking and floating. She brushed something aside with a blindly flailing hand right before breaching the surface. Gasping for air, she grabbed hold of the nearest floating object to steady herself, but everything around her was still thundering.

 _Oh god Rose._ She wondered if the roseterror even remembered that Jade was down here. It was too dark to see much, but Jade didn't think there was going to be anything ship-shaped left after this. She tried to make herself smaller as something large fell nearby, splashing her with the impact. Someone screamed in fear or pain less than ten feet away, but Jade couldn't see them.

It was hard to tell how long it took before it was all over. Suddenly as if a switch had been flipped the only sounds were the drumming of the rain, the splashing of the waves and the creaking of the wreckage, and in comparison that might as well have been complete silence. Jade closed her useless eyes and tried to relax her grip on the edge she was holding, but she was trembling and her arms felt like steel wire.

Something brushed against her back, and Jade twitched, turning around and shoving it away with all the force she could muster almost before she realized that it was another dead troll. She just wanted everything to go away. But it wouldn't, so she was going to _survive_ and she was going to _bring Rose back_ , and that was _it_. She failed to suppress a sob and then her shoulders were shaking uncontrollably. 

_Stop it, fuckass!_ She couldn't be crying. This was nothing to cry about! She was no stupid sprite, and she had stuff to do.

The broken edge that she was clinging to now was slimy, and she could feel something that sort of reminded her of torn entrails sticking out from what used to be between the outer and inner walls of the ship. Touching that made her wonder if the ship really _had_ been alive, and was actually dead now. But she wasn't going to think about it.

At least it felt slightly safer to climb onto the wreckage. With this much blood in the water, there was bound to be alien sharks or squiddles or something on the way. It would be silly to be eaten by a squiddle after all of this. 

The thing she scrambled onto was sort of a floating platform, perhaps part of some lower deck, and it was sloping gently towards Jade's side. But it didn't react much to her weight, so she had a feeling it was pretty big, though it was too dark to know for sure. Fumbling around with her hands she found a troll, perhaps the one who had screamed so close to her. The rain was starting to wash the blood away, but her hand still came away sticky, and the troll was very dead. 

Just a few feet away she bumped into a second troll. Also dead. Because everyone was dead now. It was a relief that they were no longer a threat, but it was still bloody and gross and mass murder. She didn't even know what she was supposed to feel. _Drinkable water first._

To make her way up the slope, she had to more or less crawl on her hands and knees. She couldn't see her own fingers in front of her in the inky, rainy darkness, and the floating platform was uneven and full of rubble and holes, and also rolling with the waves. Eventually, though, she found a place where the sloping floor and a piece of some fallen wall had created a decent sized bowl filled with rainwater. It wasn't perfectly clean, but it was fresh water and tasted absolutely lovely. Once she'd had as much as she could scope up, she sighed and looked up at the black rain.

It would have been nice if she'd been able to fly, but her Normal Earth Human self wasn't about to do that. She imagined doing some kind of spacey thing and just sort of _be_ up there with Rose, but she had no idea how she was supposed to accomplish something like that either. She shouldn't even have been able to do a spacey thing once – the game should have been _gone_ – but compared to all the other things that were wrong, that one had at least been good! It had saved her life, and it had been a wonderful feeling to sort of _understand_ an aspect of reality like that. If she could just call it back, maybe at least she'd be able to tell exactly _where_ Rose was.

She hugged herself, trying to rub away the goosebumps and shivers. For all she knew, Rose wasn't even up there anymore. What if that roseterror monster had decided to just _leave_? As it was, Jade wouldn't be able to tell. The wet night sky above seemed to be as impossibly inscrutable as the Furthest Ring.

There was nothing to it; she had to catch Rose's attention somehow. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath and howled. "Rooooose!" She hoped for a reaction. Any reaction at all. When nothing happened she yelled again. And again, and again. " _Rooooooooose!!_ "

The sky didn't reply. The rain kept falling on her head, muffling her voice a bit, but she thought it should still be audible from maybe a hundred feet above. If Rose was still there, and _able_ to hear her, she would. But there was no response, not even a black tentacle descending on her.

She was freezing. The rainwater was colder than the sea, and it couldn't be healthy to stay soaked out in the breeze like this. Sooner or later she'd need some kind of shelter. Her throat felt sore again, so she squatted back down to get some more water to drink. She couldn't keep yelling at nothing forever; that would be pointless. But if Rose didn't answer, what was she supposed to _do_?

A small flicker of light some distance away made her pause. She squinted at it, but between her stupid nearsightedness and the falling rain, she couldn't see much more than a tiny spot of light against the dark. It seemed to be pretty far away, but it still made her stomach tie itself into knots again. _Shit._ She shouldn't be so scared by a little thing like that, but if there was a light there were probably living trolls, and if there were living trolls they might find her; maybe they'd already heard her call out. She was lonely and cold and lost, but meeting more trolls wouldn't help! Maybe they were survivors or maybe they were scavengers or maybe they were something else but she'd had more than enough experience with trolls treating her like a funny beetle. _Don't come here. Please._

Her heart was beating too hard as she started moving again, trying to keep moving and search her little floating island more thoroughly. If she could find a weapon – a gun, preferably! – she'd have a much better chance of defending herself. Or maybe some kind of hole to hide in, both from trolls and from the rain before she started sniffling or coughing on top of everything else. Or food, while she was making wishes. The fresh water had helped, but it would be a lot easier to stay confident if her stomach wasn't so empty. But if nothing else Rose had made sure that she was _free_ , and she wasn't going to give that up.

There was a lot of useless wet rubble, but very little that she could identify with her hands. A lot of the remains were slimy, even when soaked in rainwater. There were even a couple of large lumps that might have been giant dead slugs. And then, near the top of the slope and close to a slimy wall that was partially still standing, there was another troll body. 

This one groaned when she touched it.

She started, pulling her hand back with a gasp. _Noo. Not here._ Her first instinct was to run, but running blind was stupid, and she really didn't have anywhere to go, so she forced herself to stay, putting her hand on the troll again. The skin was warm against her cold fingers, and she could feel the troll's chest rising and falling – definitely alive. And then the troll groaned again, coughed against the floor and made a barely audible sound that might have been a curse.

Jade swallowed, glancing again at the distant light. So the roseterror really hadn't killed every single troll aboard. She'd just massacred most of them and then gone off and disappeared, leaving Jade to deal with everything and not even showing herself when she looked for her. Alright, so Jade _could_ deal with this. She was no stupid toy for douchebag troll Ancestors to play with, and she wasn't going to get captured again by _anyone_. This was just one person, maybe wounded. It was going to be different this time! 

"Hi," she said, trying not to sound nervous. She rocked the troll's body gently, but she supposed it was good that they couldn't really see each other. After what Rose did, any survivors might actually have _reason_ to hate humans now. Jade steeled herself, ready to spring to her feet and defend herself if she had to.

There was a brief silence before the troll replied; a boy's voice, barely above a whisper. "Congratulations."

That wasn't the first thing she'd expected to hear. "What do you mean, 'congratulations'?"

"You just found a half-broken helmsman on a wreck." He had a funny lisp, but his voice was dry and toneless, and he didn't try to sit up or move. "What're you going to do?"

"What am _I_ going to do?" Jade was more worried about what _he_ was going to do, but he didn't seem about to do anything. Maybe he was really badly hurt. She wasn't sure how to feel about that either. "Er. I guess I wanted to say hello first. My name is Jade."

There was no reply; the troll didn't introduce himself.

"You're a helmsman?"

"Yes. Obviously." 

Still no name, but alright, she wasn't going to insist. She wasn't even sure what exactly a 'helmsman' was in a troll context – some kind of navigator? – but it sounded like he was definitely a part of the crew. "Are you alright?" she asked.

There was a small sigh. "You know how this ship is kind of blown to pieces? Guess what, the helmsman isn't going to be in prime condition."

Jade grimaced in the dark. "Yeah, sorry, maybe that was a stupid question." He did sound weak, and sort of grumpy, but not exactly threatening so far. There was still a lump in her stomach, but she did want to try to be nice. "I mean, how bad is it? Is there anything I can do? I can't see a thing and it's all cold and wet, but I do know some first aid, and I was thinking that maybe we can help each other out like civilized people!" _Please don't be a douchebag._

As a response, she felt the helmsman shake slightly, making a sound that might have been a very dry laughter, or maybe just a shiver. "Come on," he said weakly. "The _decent_ thing to do when you find a wrecked helmsman is to either claim it or cull it right away. I can't believe I have to tell you this. What are you, thome kind of wiggler?"

 _Ugh._ "Well, I suppose I am some kind of wiggler, but that's not important!" Actually, Jade didn't like what the helmsman seemed to be saying about himself either. "And I'm not going to _kill_ you!"

"Then I guess you own a helmsman."

"What? Stop talking about yourself like you're some kind of—" _Augh._ She facepalmed with a splash of rain water. If there were troll slavers of course there were troll slaves, because of course the trolls were going to be horrible to each other as well. It made some kind of awful sense, and maybe she didn't actually have to worry about being attacked by him. Maybe. "You're some kind of slave, and because I found you I'm supposed to _own_ you?"

"Oh my god." There was a sound that might almost have been a whimper, and the next moment Jade could see two small, weak lights turning on – first a blue one next to the sloping deck, then a red one an inch above. It took her a second to realize that those were the helmsman's eyes. "I can't believe it. This is tho ridiculously unlikely. How the fuck is this thupposed to be a thing that is happening."

Jade bit her lip, wondering if he could actually see her face now with those glowing eyes. "What is unlikely?"

The red and blue eyes blinked once. "You're another human alien. You're Rose Lalonde's friend."

"Yes!" Jade admitted with some force, suddenly on the defense after all. "Yes, I'm human, and yes, I'm Rose's friend! Do you have a problem with that?" She didn't really expect the helmsman to get to his feet and try to beat her up, but she still clenched her fists as if she'd have to fight. There was nothing wrong with being human! 

Unexpectedly, he apologized. "I'm thorry, I didn't mean to insult you."

"Oh, no." Jade felt a bit sheepish, but still tense. "It wasn't an insult, it's just that every troll I've met here have treated me like crap just for being human, and Rose too I think, and I was sort of scared that all trolls would feel the same way, and—" She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. " _I'm_ sorry. You're really okay with me being human?"

"I wouldn't have the right to thay it if I wasn't, tho this isn't worth a lot, but yes, it's fine."

"Thanks." She meant it. "Of course you have the right to speak your mind, though!"

"Ehehe." This time it was definitely a dry laughter. "You won't believe it, but actually I'm thort of glad. Rose thaid she hoped her friends were alive, but she hoped for a bunch of impossible things, tho it could have all been a load of hoofbeastshit. But it's nice that she was right about you, at least."

"Wait. You've been _talking_ to Rose?"

"Yes. She was nice."

Jade hadn't expected that at all. "What happened?" she found herself asking.

"She tried to run away from the Marquise," the helmsman said. "Like a newcaptured midblood thlave with delusions of freedom, which is thort of what she was, except alien. But thince actually escaping is impossible, she hid in the helmsman hall for a while, and she talked with me about thtuff. Old memories and all that shit. Basically, if helmsmen having friends was a thing, maybe I'd call her my friend, too. Tho actually I'm honored to therve a human."

"Oh." Jade released a shivering sigh. She felt something warmer than rain running down her cheeks, but this time she didn't mind. It was like being hit with a wave of relief; the first unambiguously good thing she had heard on planet Alternia. _He's Rose's friend._ And Rose hadn't killed him, so maybe she did have some restraint in all that rampage, and Jade was definitely going to find her again. For now, she wrapped her arms around the helmsman's shoulders and gave him a hug. "Thank you," she whispered in his soaked hair. "If you're Rose's friend, you'll be my friend too."

He was nice and warm enough that she almost didn't want to let go, but he was much too limp in her arms. Suddenly she was afraid not _of_ him, but _for_ him. "Look," she said, "You have to tell me how to help you! Are you bleeding? Do you have a concussion? How are you hurt?"

The helmsman paused. "I don't actually know."

"You don't know?"

He sighed and closed his eyes for a second. "I'm thorry, but it's all a blur since before the attack. I can't even tell you what defeated us. Maybe the Marquise's kismesis, because I know he was here yelling, but my mind was thort of post penancine numb at the time, and then everything went haywire and I lost connection to the ship. And then I guess I fell off the mount. Tho maybe now I gave you good reason to cull me after all."

Jade didn't get all of that, but she still shook her head. "Nope, no culling. And no, it wasn't Dualscar." She hesitated. "Look, I want to know if you're going to die on me!" She couldn't take that, too. "I just wish we had some light, because I can't see anything but your eyes."

"Light," the helmsman repeated. "Yes, mistress. Wait a thecond." He blinked a few times, and then his red and blue eyes started to glow brighter, turning from faint diodes to actual lightbulbs, the colors mingling into a purple glow that glittered in the rain, illuminating first his face and then more and more of the closest surroundings. "Fuck, meat eyes," he mumbled, quickly blinking again. "Is that better?"

"Cool," Jade said softly, staring. "Yes, I can see you now." A double set of short horns, a pattern of parallel lines on his chest as a sign, and a familiar face. She remembered Aradia introducing her to the helmsman's doppelganger in a dream even before all the players met in the Furthest Ring. "Sollux," she said with a small smile. It was silly, but it felt good to know that not all of the Sgrub players' Ancestors were horrible and evil.

"Who's Thollux?"

"Well..." Jade grimaced. "I think I knew your Descendant."

She'd said the exact same thing to Dualscar, but the helmsman's reaction was different. "I'm pretty sure that thing you thaid doesn't make any thense," he said dryly, "But okay."

"Oh, it doesn't matter." Jade shrugged and looked the helmsman over more closely. He was very skinny, dressed in a skintight bodysuit that neither covered his arms nor his legs below the knees, and he was lying limply on his right side on the wet sloping floor. His left arm was slumped in front of him and his feet were against the remains of the wall. He was actually younger than Dualscar and Mindfang, but still a bit older than Jade – maybe in his upper teens. 

At least he didn't seem to be dying in any obvious way. He definitely hadn't been directly hurt by the roseterror's grimdark tentacles, and nothing seemed visibly broken. But the fact that he seemed to have simply fallen over and never moved again didn't look good. How badly had he hit his head? There was a bent metal headpiece with goggles attached, now askew around the top of his head and one of the goggles crushed under his temple, and he hadn't even tried to remove it.

And the rest of his wounds were... weird. The helmsman's arms and hands and legs were pocked with small cuts and larger bruises, and a lot of the cuts were still bleeding slightly in the rain. Worse, there were torn pieces of thin fleshy tentacles hanging from his limbs, attached to him by piercing the skin and going inside. His feet and calves were still practically buried in the stuff, and a lot of small, torn tentacles were still hanging on the remains of the wall as if they had ripped out of him. It looked pretty much like he had been trussed up on the wall with living syringe-hoses before falling over, and that could hardly have been Rose and her horrorterrors' fault. Jade started to feel sick on his behalf.

"Can you move at all?" she asked.

He looked confused. "I don't understand. I'm not connected to a vessel."

Jade frowned. "I mean, can you move your arm, or your hand? Just a little bit. Try to touch me." She reached out her own hand close to his.

"With the meat?" He blinked and the illumination flickered. "I'm not thupposed to—"

"Please." What had Mindfang _done_ to him?

"Yes, mistress." His arm tensed, shaking a little, then moved a fraction of an inch towards hers. "I'm thorry," he said, "I'm not used to this. I'm a helmsman."

Jade breathed out. "It's fine," she said, taking his hand and giving it a little squeeze. At least he didn't have the total paralysis kind of spinal damage. He was just... weak? Muscle atrophy, then, which mean he must have been trussed up like that a while. She could hardly believe it and she didn't _want_ to, but it was right in front of her. 

"Please don't call me 'mistress', though," she said weakly. It was almost as bad as 'alien', but in the other direction. "My name is Jade."

"Yes, Jade."

"Alright." She had to pull herself together. "You don't seem to be dying, at least! But what _is_ this stuff?" She touched a tentacle thing attached to the back of his hand.

"It's blue hullworms for planetary water vessels," he replied immediately. "More or less thtandard issue." He paused. "It's the remains of the helmsman mount, but you're like Rose tho you have no idea what I'm thaying, is that it?"

Jade frowned. "It definitely looks like they used it to tie you up," she said. "And to... connect you to the ship?"

"Yes, you got it."

"But why? What does a helmsman _do_?"

The helmsman's mouth twisted into a slight grimace. "A helmsman is a psionic thlave that is connected to the ship and makes it go. Basically it's the most efficient and flexible way to power and integrate all necessary thystems on a vessel of any kind. And thince you don't know, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you don't have a vessel at all. Tho I'm useless to you. Fuck."

"Wait, what?" Jade waved her hand for him to stop. "You mean like a permanent part of the _engine_? No, you're right that I don't have a vessel, but even if I did I wouldn't want to tie up a slave inside to power it – that's awful! Look, I'm going to put my foot down on this, because it's important! I don't want you to be my slave!"

He somehow managed to look even more deflated than the limp wet mass of limbs he already was. "You can always thell a helmsman if you don't want it," he said tonelessly. "Or thomeone will thteal it and take you too, which is obviously more likely in this thituation. I don't know why I bothered to think anything else."

"Alright, _no_." Jade set her jaw stubbornly and took his hand in hers again. "I'm not going to kill you or sell you or let anyone capture either of us!" She glanced around for that distant light again but couldn't find it, and she wasn't sure if that was reassuring or worrying. "And I'm not going to keep you as a slave either. You can't just _own_ other people like objects! It's common sense."

His face tensed even more. "Tho what do you want with me?"

"I'd like for us to be friends, that's all."

"And who owns me?"

"No one! _You!_ "

He closed his eyes and turned the world back to pitch darkness, making a sound between a groan and a hiss, but he didn't reply.

"Look," Jade said, a bit annoyed, "Since you say I own you legally right now, then I'm legally setting you free. There."

Silence.

"You're not a Helmsman, you're a free Psionic, and that's an order!"

His eyes opened again, not quite as bright as a moment ago. "You can't."

"Yes I can. And I do!" How could he keep protesting? Why would anyone _want_ to be a slave? "Come on!"

"It's not how it works," he whispered, but it seemed to be more to himself than to her. "It's unnatural. I can't." He actually sounded scared.

"It's okay," Jade said more softly, squeezing his hand. "I'm not going to leave you all alone. I just think everyone should belong to themselves."

"I can't." His hand very weakly squeezed hers back.

Jade wondered again what had been done to him to make him like this. Going by what she knew of Mindfang, just thinking about it made her shudder. "Just think about it," she relented. "We can talk about it later. Right now I'm going to try to make us more comfortable, if that's okay?"

"Yes." She wasn't sure what the quiet word replied to, but he didn't seem to mind when she started to gently pull the bent headpiece away. Underneath was a pretty big bruise on his temple, but at least nothing had shattered and broken skin.

Jade repositioned herself, and just moving brought a violent shiver, making her realize again how cold she was. The Psionic didn't say a word either way when she pulled his head and shoulders up into her lap, but his body felt like a warm blanket, and she hoped it would be warmer for him, too, if they could share heat. "We should get these away," she said, indicating the tentacle things – he'd called them 'hullworms' – hanging from his arms and trapping his legs. "Shouldn't we?"

"Probably," he said. "They're dead, tho they aren't doing anyone any good. They'll just fester and rot and be in the way."

Jade grimaced. "Then we should definitely remove them." She started with the one on the back of his left hand, trying to pull it out as carefully as possible, but it still made him gasp. It left a long bruise and a small new wound. "I'm sorry," she said. "Did it hurt?"

"Yes, but it's fine."

Jade could only imagine what it must have felt like when he was shaken off the entire mount. Ugh. "Is there a good way to do it? I don't want to hurt you more!"

"I thaid it's fine. Torn worms have to be removed manually, that's only normal. As opposed to everything else."

"Heh." Jade smiled in spite of herself. "I think we can agree on that! But okay, we definitely don't want it to fester and rot." She picked another of the worms on his arms and pulled it out as quickly as she could. It was better to get it over with.

There were a few minutes when neither of them spoke. Jade pulled out most of the hullworms from the Psionic's arms and threw them away down the slope. He bore it without comments, though he was trembling slightly, or maybe that was just her.

"I should tell you about Rose," Jade said eventually. It was hard to talk about, but he deserved to know.

"I assume she's dead."

"No!!" Jade's fingers clenched around the next piece of tentacle on his arm. "No, she's alive. She's just... Not really available." 

"Tho what happened to her?" There was a hint of disbelief in the Psionic's tone.

"Remember that I said it wasn't Dualscar who attacked Mindfang's ships? He was here for a while and kind of literally threw me to Mindfang, but then he left. And Mindfang took me downstairs to where Rose was." Jade hesitated, chewing her lip again.

"The Marquise was punishing her for trying to escape," the Psionic filled in. "I know."

"She tried to make Rose whip me," Jade said quietly. "And Rose sort of... snapped. She has done that once before, but it was much worse this time. She turned completely into a giant grimdark monster, and... _She_ did all this." Jade gestured at the destruction in the darkness around them.

The Psionic started chuckling. "Ehehehe. Theriously? _Rose_ did it?" Then he went silent with a click of his teeth. He was shivering worse than before. "You're therious. Rose killed them herself."

"Yeah."

"And she's thtill alive? Tho where is she now?"

"I don't know. Probably somewhere in the sky. And I don't know how to get to her." Jade realized that she was stroking the Psionic's hair, just like her grandpa used to stroke hers when she was small and needed comfort.

"Tho why don't you think she'll come down? She cares a lot about you for thomeone who isn't properly quadranted."

"She _would_ , but I'm not sure she can! She went all grimdark and horribleterrible and... I don't think she can _think_ properly like that. And I don't think she can turn herself back to a human all that easily, either."

The Psionic sighed. "I thee. She's not dead, but we'll never thee her again. Basically she'll fly around until thomeone manages to harvest all that psionic power or decides to hell with it and blows her to thmithereens."

Jade shook her head violently. "Don't say that! I'm going to save her! I _have to_ find a way to turn her back to herself, whatever it takes!" She didn't think she was crying again, but her breath hitched, and all she could do was to rip out the final worm from the Psionic's arm and throw it away with a splash. "Don't you see, Rose got herself turned into a big black horrormonster to _save me_. Even if she wasn't my friend I'd _owe_ it to her to save her right back! And she _is_ my friend, and I can't stand that she's captured inside something like that!" She took a deep breath, trembling.

"I get it," the Psionic said quietly. "I want to help, if that's okay."


	30. John

John's head was aching again as he hurried through another waste chute hatch and found himself in a little closet-sized buffer space. The catgirl had sent him a few more quick instructions – immediately take out any people who had stayed behind; break the door opening mechanism to buy time; and _hurry_ – but now she was AFK again, doing who-knows-what somewhere.

John closed his eyes and tried to steel himself, but all he managed to do was make his hands shake harder. Stupid hands; this was going to be the least cool rescue ever. Although maybe that would be ironic enough for Dave? This was so weird. What the hell were you supposed to say when you saved a cool-bro-in-distress anyway? Meh. He bit his lip. _Dave, please be alright._ This was no time to hesitate, so he grabbed the sledge hammer in one hand and shoved the sliding door in front of him aside.

The room on the other side was brighter than he expected, making John squint for a moment despite the shades, but he didn't dare blink. Scanning for enemies, all he saw was six gray walls and some piece of furniture in the center. Everything was silent and nothing moved.

He lowered the hammer and looked around again, confirming that yes, really, the room was mostly empty and there were no trolls here. That was lucky. The catgirl hadn't been sure if they had _all_ left, but apparently they had, at least for the moment. John felt his shoulders relax slightly. 

It wasn't completely abandoned though, because someone was lying on the table near the center of the room. All John could see clearly from this position was a tangled mass of blond hair, but that was enough. His insides fluttered in strange apprehension. "Dave!"

There was no reply, but it took only a second for John to close the distance between them. "Hey, are you alright, I—" 

He shut up as he reached the side of the table and got a better look at Dave. _Oh god no._

He'd known all the time that Dave was going to be hurt, but he didn't know how much, and also knowing something in an abstract sort of way was completely different from seeing it right in front of him in full 3D and high definition and also _real_. "It" being his best friend, naked, strapped to a table, and _missing large patches of skin_. There was blood and muscles and even some bone visible and it was just. Too much.

Before he knew it, John dropped to his knees, clutching his chest and struggling frantically to push down the vomit rising in his throat. _No. No no no._ It was fucked up and evil and completely inhuman and _pointless_! Fuck paradox space, it wasn't _right_! After coming all this way, Dave looked like _death_ , and even if he wasn't dead he was probably dying and John didn't even have the words for the way his stomach twisted up like it was trying rip itself apart.

Somehow he managed to keep from throwing up all over the floor, but he felt dizzy like his head was boiling, and sick to the marrow and shaking like a leaf and sobbing like a stupid little kid. He wanted nothing as much as to lie down and just black out, and when he woke up it wouldn't feel like he was being crushed by a crumbling universe anymore.

But _no_ , that wasn't fair, because he wasn't the one who had been... been tortured like that, had he? He was still here and free and more or less awake, so he couldn't just give up. Seriously. Collapse now and he'd only make things worse. He'd wake up in Dave's position too. And maybe so would the Catgirl and the Signless Karkat and the Dolorosa and no, he couldn't let that happen. All of the no. 

John slowly forced himself to calm down. Deep breaths, like that. Breathing was good. Finally he clenched his fists and held his breath just for a second, trying to sense the air, looking for the faint flow of another person breathing, and – _there_. A shallow but steady rhythm, though faster than he'd have expected for someone unconscious. John released a shaky sigh of relief. Dave was still alive, so basically things could still turn out okay. As long as John kept himself together, and he'd come too far not to.

Moving again seemed physically painful, but hardly as painful as anything they'd done to Dave, so that was okay. The suncoat felt impossibly heavy and restricting as he forced himself to sit up straight, so he tore the dirty coat and gloves off and tossed them aside in a heap. The iShades got knocked askew, so he put them away, too. Instead he fumbled for his own glasses with one hand and rubbed the tears from his eyes with the other, then grabbed the hammer again and stumbled to his feet.

First things first. The catgirl had told him to break the door mechanism to win them some time and advance warning once people started to come back. So he should do that. 

Deliberately not looking at Dave, he went over to the big door and forced his arms to go through the motion of bashing the sledgehammer against the darker circle on the wall to the left. Not hard enough; all he made was a crash and a deep dent. He gnashed his teeth and did it again. This time the inner wall broke open, and a tangle of thin blue hullworms and metal connections was flattened in a spray of blue fluids. That should be it, keeping the door from opening normally. John left the hammer in the hole and turned back around. This time he didn't let himself look away.

Dave's eyes were still closed, and except for what might have been a very tiny shiver when John stepped up close he didn't seem to have noticed John's presence at all. He looked small and exposed, all dark red and pallid white, like a corpse – or a very unpleasant candy cane. He didn't look like _Dave_. But... at least he wasn't missing any limbs? And yeah, his chest was really was rising and falling, even though a part of it was... peeled. Like a blood grape. And so was a good part of his right upper arm, a bit of the elbow, bits and pieces of his _hand_... God. John felt his stomach clench and his eyes tear up again as he stared, forcing himself to follow the trail of wounds down Dave's right hip, leg, knee, ankle and the fucking underside of his foot. He _was_ missing a toe. The wounds looked damp and ugly, but they weren't actually oozing blood or anything. That was probably good, because he wasn't bleeding out? He'd still need bandages before moving.

John shuddered, but if he paused to think too much he'd just despair again. "Alright, I'm going to get you out of here," he told Dave, not sure if he expected him to hear or not. He wondered if he should try to wake Dave up, or if that would just make him hurt more. Anyway, he had to start somewhere, so he pulled the black sweater and pants he'd borrowed from the Signless Karkat off – leaving himself in the weirdly resurrected god pajamas – and placed the borrowed clothes over Dave's private parts for now. Basic decency accomplished.

Next step. There was a tube from the ceiling going down Dave's nostrils, and another going through a needle into his thigh, and John's instinct was to pull them out – but he didn't know what they _did_. What if it was something keeping him alive? He let the tubes be for the moment and started fiddling with the straps that tied Dave to the table instead. There were two for each limb, with little metal clasps almost like on a seatbelt. They weren't that hard to undo, though John's fingers felt clumsy and stiff, and he had to be careful not to touch any of the open wounds. The skin underneath the straps was chafed and sore, but at least not cut, and John tried his best to be gentle. There was a metal band around Dave's neck too, but it was different from the straps and not attached to the table, so John ignored that too for now. 

Dave didn't stir, but he did tremble and make some weird noise that could have been half-suppressed sobs a few times. When John undid the final clasp on his left wrist, Dave made a hoarse whisper that sounded a lot like " _Go away_ ," though he didn't open his eyes.

John froze. "I'm not going away, stupid," he said, noticing how dry his mouth was. He supposed Dave had to be delirious. He probably _should_ wake him up.

The side of Dave's face was damp with tears or sweat when John touched it. He tapped Dave's temple lightly with a finger; he didn't dare to poke him any harder, even though the only visible wound on his head was a thin, half-healed cut under one eye. "Hey, Dave," he said. "Can you hear me?"

Dave's face twitched visibly, making a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a sob. "No," he said, eyes still closed. His voice was thick with pain and so hoarse that it cracked. "Please, go away."

"Not going away," John insisted, feeling cold. "C'mon dude, wake up. Please." He wished he knew what he was supposed to say in this kind of situation, but he couldn't even think of any relevant movie scenes. "The trolls who did this _are_ gone," he added, hoping that it was true, or at least true for long enough. "I'm not one of them, I'm _John_! Remember me?"

Dave sobbed again, and his eyelids tightened, squeezing out tears. "Just... Fuck off."

Shit. John grimaced. He had an urge to give Dave a shake to snap him out of it, but he couldn't. Not when Dave looked like _this_.

"Look," John said, his fingers scratching nervously against the table. "I'm—I'm sorry about this. I came as soon as I could, but it obviously wasn't soon enough, and... I mean, we weren't supposed to end up here at all, or get separated like this, or anything. It was probably a bad idea to try to break the game in the first place. But the thing is, I came a long way to find you, and now I'm going to get you out of here, and that's all there is to say on the matter!"

"Stop it." Dave clamped his eyes shut harder like he really didn't _want_ to wake up. "John, stop."

John blinked at the sound of his name. "But I'm—"

"You're not here." This time Dave's voice was barely audible. "Not a chance. Nada. You're back on Earth. I told them, but—" He sobbed again.

 _Fuck._ "You _are_ awake, aren't you?"

"I—John, you _can't_ be here. So just—go hide back in my tormented psyche or whatever but stop trying to make me think—"

John found he had tears in his eyes again, too. "Stupid!" he said. "Of course I'm here! And I'm not leaving you in a place like this, so forget it. Just open your eyes and look at me!"

The only reply was a hoarsely repeated " _can't_ be here," but John didn't stop to argue more; he made himself gingerly pick up and unfold Dave's shades and put them in place on his friend's face. It went a long way towards making him _look_ like Dave again, and no matter how bad things were, John couldn't imagine it wouldn't make him feel at least a little bit better.

"Come on, bro."

The shades reflected the ceiling lights and made it impossible to see if Dave actually opened his eyes or not, but John thought he did, because his face turned slightly in John's direction. "Fuck no," he said. "If you're really... Shit, John." His chest was shaking with hiccup-sobs.

"Yeah," John said, "It's definitely me. And it's going to be okay, because you and I are going to get out of here together. I just need—"

"You're supposed to be safe," Dave interrupted in a miserable croak. "I'm the only one here, and that's the _truth_."

John shook his head. "Nope. I'm right here, too." And Jade and Rose were somewhere on the planet, but this was not a good time to complicate things. Get Dave out first.

"They won't believe you either. They'll hurt you, and I can't... They'll make you—they'll make us—" Another sob, and really, even with the shades, Dave crying was just disconcerting no matter how you looked at it. "You have to run. But there's nowhere to—" His voice simply broke, and there were just sobs after that.

John resisted the urge to scope Dave up and hug him. For one thing, it really wouldn't work with all those wounds, and besides, bros didn't do that. "Don't worry," he said instead, trying to be soothing and confident. "They won't do anything to either of us because we're going to be outta here."

"John... _why?_ "

Augh. "Because I don't like abandoning friends to murdertrolls! That's pretty much common sense! And there's a long story of how I got here – but I can't tell it now, because we have to get out of this room alive first!" He paused, but Dave didn't reply, so he went on. "Speaking of which, can you move at all? No, wait, first – do you have any idea what these tubes that are attached to you are?"

"I—yeah." Dave raised his left arm – the one that wasn't cut – but even that movement made him whimper in pain, so maybe there was something else wrong with it. He came halfway to his face, but then made his hand slump on the whole part of his chest. "Get them out," he said.

"And it won't kill you?" 

"No. Knock me out at best."

"Okay..." John hesitated at that piece of information, but Dave was moving his hand again, reaching for the tube in his nose with a gasp of pain, so John went ahead and helped him pull it out. The tube was soft and organic and sort of similar to the hullworms, except it was pouring oxygen or something from the ends. When John let it go it rose on its own and attached itself to the ceiling with a bunch of other similar tubes. The one with the syringe from Dave's leg did the same after swallowing the needle in its tip. 

"Thanks," Dave whispered, slowly flexing his fingers and starting to bend his knees, as if trying to figure out how much of his body still worked. "You'll escape with me," he mumbled. It sounded like a statement, but John could hear the incredulous question underneath.

"Yeah, that's the plan. I've got some friends who're going to help us get back down, but first—"

Dave didn't seem to be listening. He was lifting his right arm, but the flayed part flowed over with new blood, making him whimper again, and the next moment his whole body went limp.

"Hey!" John said reflexively, but Dave was all still and quiet and unresponsive. Despite what he had just said about things knocking him out, John still found himself checking nervously for life signs. Yes, Dave was still breathing, though he was probably unconscious for real this time. John suddenly became aware of his headache again, and shook his head to get it out of mind – that and the strange lump of loneliness in his stomach. Maybe it was good that Dave was unconscious, because John imagined that any hospital would dope him up on morphine or something for the pain before doing _anything_ with him in this state, and John had no idea how to arrange that.

The worse problem was that he didn't know how to arrange for bandages either, and those wounds _needed_ to be bandaged, because whatever balance kept them from bleeding too much right now obviously didn't hold when he moved. Also, John knew very well that going into a filthy place like that garbage chute with open wounds would be a Bad Idea. _Damn it, think._

 _Anything_ would be better than not escaping at all, though. He glanced towards the waste chute hatch. The door to the buffer space had closed itself, and if he hadn't known it was there, he might not have seen it at all – it looked pretty much like a blank wall. Stupid alien architecture. In any case, that was the only way out, and he had to hurry. He thought it would help at least a bit if he could get the clothes on Dave and then wrap him up in the sun coat. Unless maybe the catgirl had a better idea.

"I'm sorry, but I need to borrow them again," John said and took the iShades back from Dave's face, feeling weirdly guilty about it. 

Even as he put them on, he heard a sudden click from the direction of the main door.


	31. (Interlude)

█■: YOU  
█■: dullhorns  
█■: I DON'T KNOW YOUR MOTHERFUCKING FACE  
█■: what's your business in being here?   
▀▄: ...GRAND HIGHBLOOD.   
▀▄: AS A MATTER OF FACT I'M TRYING TO GET SOMEONE WITH A THINKPAN TO TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, BECAUSE I STEPPED OFF THE SHUTTLE AND FOUND THIS WHOLE SECTION BULGE DEEP IN TWITCHY GUARTERMINATORS.   
▀▄: OBVIOUSLY THAT'S NOT THE NORMAL STATE OF AFFAIRS EVEN ON THE MEDSAT.   
▀▄: SO WHAT HAPPENED?   
▀▄: DID A RESIDENT SLIME ADDICT RUN OFF WITH THE STATION'S ENTIRE SUPPLY OF SOPOR?   
▀▄: DID YOU HAVE A HOSTILE ALIEN INVASION EMERGE FROM SOME UNKNOWN SPECIMEN'S BATTERED ASS?   
▀▄: OR IS IT SOMETHING MORE UNUSUAL??   
█■: heh  
█■: HAH HAH HAH  
▀▄: I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO ASK.   
▀▄: SIR.   
█■: what exactly is going on  
█■: IS NONE OF YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BUSINESS.   
▀▄: OF COURSE IT'S NONE OF MY BUSINESS.   
▀▄: I'D STILL LIKE TO KNOW IF CHOOSING THE WRONG TIME TO VISIT MEDSAT HAS LANDED ME SMACK DOWN IN A WARZONE.   
█■: it's not a warzone.   
█■: IT'S A ZONE OF MOTHERFUCKING BORDERLINE MIRACULOUS INCOMPETENCE  
█■: and a whole lot of fuckers soon to be culled if that isn't all fixed soon.   
▀▄: ALRIGHT, MIRACULOUS INCOMPETENCE DOESN'T SOUND GOOD.   
▀▄: I'M SURE YOUR CREWS WILL WORK THEIR NOOKS OUT WITH THE CULLING FORK SUSPENDED CLOSER THAN USUAL ABOVE THEIR HEADS, THOUGH.   
█■: I SURE AS FUCK EXPECT SO.   
▀▄: YEAH.   
▀▄: SO WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT SURGERY ROOM?   
▀▄: DID SOMETHING GET ITSELF SEALED IN THERE?   
▀▄: AN ESCAPED SPECIMEN?   
█■: no.   
█■: IT'S A MOTHERFUCKING ROGUE  
█■: and there's a very much unescaped specimen in there too.   
█■: BUT WHO IN THE MIRTHLESS HELLS ARE YOU TO ASK  
█■: making noise like a seadweller in the passionate throes  
█■: WHILE YOU'RE NOT WEARING NO SIGN, PEON.   
█■: it's a motherfucking eyesore.   
▀▄: FINE, YOU GOT ME.   
▀▄: I'M A PHYSICAL ABOMINATION AND SUBVERSIVE TERRORIST INTENT ON OVERTHROWING THE HEMOSCALE AND REMAKE ALTERNIA IN THE NAME OF LOVE AND PEACE.   
▀▄: IS THAT SUSPECT ENOUGH?   
▀▄: OR I'M THE MATESPRIT OF ONE OF MEDSAT'S SECREDOCUMENTARIANS WITH UNCOMMONLY SUCKY TIMING FOR VISITING HER.   
█■: heh heh  
█■: HAH HAH HAH  
█■: you're much amusing, brother  
█■: I GIVE YOU THAT.   
█■: now give me title and color.   
█■: I'M ITCHING TO CRACK THE HORNS OFF SOME WORTHLESS MOTHERFUCKER  
█■: but you'd hardly be satisfying in that way.  
▀▄: I KNOW.   
▀▄: I'M SORRY MY HORNS ARE ABOUT AS IMPRESSIVE AS THE YELLOWED TEETH OF AN OVERAGE HOOFBEAST.   
█■: HAH  
▀▄: FOR THE RECORD, I LITERALLY CAN'T SHOWCASE MY SIGN RIGHT NOW.   
▀▄: I'M A HICCAN INITIATE.   
▀▄: TRUST ME, I WOULDN'T STAND HERE IN A BLANK SHIRT IF I HAD ANY CHOICE ON THE MATTER.   
█■: i doubt you would  
█■: BUT THAT EXPLAINS SHIT AND NOTHING.   
▀▄: GOD.   
▀▄: PLEASE DON'T SAY YOU NEVER HEARD OF US. YOU'RE THE GRAND MOTHERFUCKING HIGHBLOOD.   
▀▄: JUST LOOK US UP.   
▀▄: I'D EXPECT A HIGH SUBJUGGLATOR TO UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF OBEYING GOD'S HOLY GIGGLES IF ANYONE.   
█■: fine.   
█■: FAIR ENOUGH, INITIATEBROTHER.   
█■: when this business is settled i expect you to pay another visit  
█■: TO EXPLAIN ALL THE MIRTHFUL MIRACLES OF YOUR SECTARIAN THEOLOGY  
█■: but now  
█■: FOR THE MOTHERFUCKING MOMENT  
█■: i'm busy.   
▀▄: YES, SIR.   
▀▄: THOUGH RIGHT NOW IT LOOKS MORE LIKE YOU'RE STANDING AROUND WAITING.   
▀▄: THERE MUST BE A REASON YOU DON'T JUST GUN YOUR WAY THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE STANDARD PROCEDURE.   
█■: WE ALREADY DID THAT.   
█■: the door was mauled but all we got was a faceful of uncontrolled psychic force.   
█■: THIS ROGUE MOTHERFUCKER IS STRONG.   
█■: in fact  
█■: WE'RE DEALING WITH AN UNPROCESSED PSIONIC.   
█■: does it scare you?   
▀▄: IN A WHOLE FUCKLOAD OF WAYS, YES.   
█■: THE MOTHERFUCKER TRIGGERED EMERGENCY AIRLOCK SHUTDOWN TO SEAL ITSELF OFF.   
█■: what you see is all a bulkhead.   
█■: NONE OF THIS WOULD BE MUCH A PROBLEM  
█■: if this station had been properly maintained  
█■: BUT NOTHING WORKS AND THE MOTHERFUCKING USELESS HELMSMAN CAN'T DO SHIT  
█■: i'll personally cull the economard for not replacing it sweeps ago.   
▀▄: SHH.   
▀▄: HUH.   
▀▄: IS THAT GUY BRINGING A HANDHELD TORCHRUCHER?   
█■: it's the tool we need to open the door for  
█■: MOTHERFUCKING  
█■: serendipity.   
█■: MEDSAT NEEDS A STRONGER HELMSMAN  
█■: and the messiahs prank us with a psionic.   
▀▄: THAT'S   
▀▄: FUNNY.   
█■: ALL WE NEED TO DO IS OPEN THE TIN.   
▀▄: HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT THE ROGUE IS STILL IN THERE?   
▀▄: HOW THE FUCK DID THEY GET THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE?   
█■: i'm told it traveled the waste chute  
█■: LIKE THE PIECE OF SHIT IT IS.   
█■: it's gotta be smaller than you are, brother.   
█■: BUT DON'T WORRY YOUR NUBS  
█■: it ain't absconding that way.   
█■: AT WORST IT'LL INCINERATE THE NEWTYPE ALIEN KID WE WORKED ON  
█■: which would be too bad for the xenorippers  
█■: BUT THE FUCKER WASN'T TALKING ANYWAY.   
▀▄: "INCINERATE".  
▀▄: YOU TURNED ON THE WASTE INCINERIZER.   
█■: yeah.   
▀▄: ISN'T THAT SHIT EXPENSIVE AS HELL TO RUN OFF SCHEDULE?   
█■: NOT AS EXPENSIVE AS THE ALTERNATIVE.   
█■: picture an undersize psionic without proper processing running loose under the empire's noses  
█■: NOW PICTURE IT GETTING AWAY WITH THAT.   
▀▄: ...   
▀▄: FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW  
▀▄: I'D CALL THAT FUNNY.   
█■: not as funny as hearing it scream  
█■: AS IT LEARNS IN ITS VERY BONES   
█■: that lashing out against the empire  
█■: IS THE HEIGHT OF MOTHERFUCKING IDIOCY.   
▀▄: SH...   
▀▄: YEAH, FINE.   
▀▄: WHY NOT EXPLOSIVES?   
▀▄: WHY DON'T YOU BLOW THE WHOLE FUCKING BULKHEAD UP IF YOU CAN'T MOVE IT?   
█■: spoken like a motherfucking moron.   
█■: YOU DON'T MAKE THE BIG EXPLOSIONS ON A SPACE STATION  
█■: especially not with a subpar helmsman  
█■: ESPECIALLY NOT WHEN YOU PREFER THE MOTHERFUCKING ROGUE ALIVE  
█■: and never by a surgery loaded top and bottom with medichemical liquids and gases.   
▀▄: RIGHT.   
▀▄: THAT MAKES A STUNNING AMOUNT OF SENSE.   
▀▄: AND TURN IT AROUND AND THOSE GASES SOUND EXTREMELY HANDY.   
▀▄: AREN'T THEY?   
█■: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN?   
▀▄: ONLY THAT I BET THAT "MOTHERFUCKING ROGUE" IS GOING TO KEEP FIGHTING LIKE A CORNERED SQUEEKBEAST IF YOU LET IT.   
▀▄: I'D SAY THE CHANCE OF NO ONE GETTING INCONVENIENTLY HURT OR KILLED IS ABOUT A FUCKTON BETTER IF YOU INCAPACITATE YOUR PSIONIC BEFORE YOU GO IN.   
▀▄: LESS OF A STRUGGLE AND MORE CONVENIENT.   
▀▄: YOU'D HAVE TO WAIT A BIT LONGER, BUT...   
█■: heh heh heh heh heh heh  
█■: GAS.   
█■: that's a good one.   
█■: I LIKE THE MOTHERFUCKING WAY YOU THINK.   
█■: if the half rotten system is up to it  
█■: IT'S WORTH IT TO TRY.   
▀▄: GOOD LUCK.   
▀▄: AND THANKS FOR TALKING TO ME.   
▀▄: I SHOULD GO LOOK FOR MY MATESPRIT ALREADY.   
█■: go find your hearts.   
█■: CLAWSPINE! PUT THAT TORCHRUSHER ON PAUSE FOR A MOTHERFUCKING SECOND  
█■: and put me in contact with the captain again.  
█■: IT'S ABOUT GAS.

* * *

\-- cardinalGift [CG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] \--  
CG: JOHN.  
CG: I'VE BOUGHT YOU SOME TIME.


	32. Dave

Consciousness itself wasn't so bad. For one unnaturally long three-fourths of a second of being aware of himself he had no clue who, where, or how he was. He was an ignorant ignoramus sitting tight in the cluelessmobile, and that was _awesome_.

Of course, it had to come back. He was Dave Strider, except _not_ ; he was a fucked up piece of Dave debris washed up on the shore of a dead-end alternate timeline that came very close to literally qualifying as hell. His body was made out of burning, throbbing rags, even though at the moment it somehow seemed to be half a mile away. He guessed he must have blacked out after all, but that didn't help. He was still alive, time drumming in his ears again like a countdown to a ball that refused to drop.

Somewhere nearby a voice was mumbling a question. "And which ones are that?"

Dave almost flinched, instinctively squeezing his eyes shut tighter like that would protect him. There was no way he could answer, even if he had known what they meant; he didn't _have_ the story the trolls wanted. Nothing he said meant a thing; the trolls would just keep cutting for shits and giggles, but _fuck_ — "I don't know," he managed, even though that was the shittiest excuse for an answer ever.

"Dave! Oh god, are you awake?"

 _John?_

Voice recognition hit Dave like a punch in the guts, shocking and painful but not at all the kind of pain he was expecting. More recent memories smacked him like deja vu from a dream. The trolls had left, and John had... appeared out of nowhere, obviously a pain-addled hallucination. Because hallucinations in general always managed to undo straps and get gas tubes off. And promise escape.

John shouldn't even be in this shitty version of reality, and especially not _here_. One doomed Dave was just peachy in the long run. But it couldn't happen to _John_. Dave wasn't in a state to flip a single hamburger, but he found himself trembling again. _Striders don't go dragging friends along to hell._ No, and also no, John couldn't be here.

If he opened his eyes John would be gone, and he wouldn't have to deal with untenable hope.

If he opened his eyes John would be tied down to a table next to him. _Fuck no no no._

Dave shifted his left arm. He expected it to be agonizing, but there was just a sting of extra pain, and the straps tying him down were definitely gone. So much for hallucinations. 

A light touch brushed a few strands of hair from his damp forehead. "Dammit, Dave," John's voice said, "Don't do this again. Please. I can't—"

Dave opened his eyes a sliver, breaking through crusted tears. The room was more or less the same, but John was standing over him like he'd been there all along. He was wearing his doofy heroic windhoodie and Dave's own Ben Stiller shades, making him look ridiculous on top of pale and worried. Either this was real or Dave's mind had snapped so far it was dripping off his feet, and the latter explanation was obviously preferable to John being alive and present within the Alternian jurisdiction. Dave turned his eyes away, and _fuck_ , he wasn't going to cling to hope like a baby to a creepy puppet. 

"Hey," he whispered. His throat was ridiculously raw.

"Hey," John replied. "How do you feel?"

The question made something clench inside Dave. "Fine," he said, not sure if it was ironic or just another bad lie.

"Yeah, okay, that's still a stupid question. I mean, do you feel any better? Like, at all?"

Did he? Dave drew a deep breath and considered it. The blazing pain of missing tissue was still present and accounted for, but it did seem to be keeping its blurry distance, like it didn't quite dare to come up and ask him to dance again. He kept expecting it to go ahead and pull him back down to the screaming ball, but it hadn't yet, and that'd be disconcerting if the alternative hadn't been four hundred-and-thirteen times worse. His wounded fingers felt thick with some kind of fabric when he tried wriggling them, and his left shoulder wasn't aching nearly as bad as it had been. "Yeah," he admitted. "I guess." He knew better than to expect it to last, but it was a bit of shaky, fragile relief.

John sighed. "Good," he said. "The catgirl didn't know how well the stuff I gave you would work, but it was the only thing she was _sure_ wouldn't give you permanent brain damage or something."

Dave was barely listening. Maybe he could move his weight to his left side and get up on his elbow, or even sit up. Spending a minute or two upright like something similar to a real person instead of spread on a table like food scraps seemed like a worthy goal to strive for; more than he'd expected to accomplish, at least. Then John's words went through to him. "What about a cat—" He gasped and gritted his teeth as a sharp spike of pain went through his shoulder and chest, but John's arms were there, around his back, turning into a life vest to hold him up.

"It's okay," John mumbled nonsensically, "Take it easy." His body was warm and solid and undeniably real, like he was immortal and invulnerable and just the kind of capital-H Hero who'd swoosh around saving errant knights in distress. If that had been an actual thing, rather than complete idiocy. "And yeah, it's the same catgirl you met," he added. "She's one of the good guys, I promise. I mean, she feels really bad about having to tell on you, and she's been helping us a lot. I really don't think I'd have been able to get here without her."

John helped Dave up as he talked, and Dave leaned on him like he seriously needed something to lean on. It started to sink into the bloody morasses of his brain that John was actually present, here, in this very lab. _John._ He'd done some first aid too, as Dave's wounds turned out to be covered with some kind of thick, trollskin-gray fabric that stuck haphazardly to him like giant band aids. Most of the searing pain felt distant enough that Dave could still hear himself think, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. 

"Don't trust her," he said. "You can't trust them. They're all fucking _insane_."

"I know, but not _all_ of them! Karkat says—"

" _Karkat?_ He can't be—" Dave's chafed throat choked on the words. He was sitting on the edge of the table now, his back stiff and trembling. "I'm not—You're not—"

John simply pulled himself closer and wrapped Dave up in a tight hug. "It's okay," he said again, though it was still nonsense.

Dave slumped into the embrace. He didn't even object. The pressure hurt vaguely, but the solid, comforting warmth was worse. It was too much and too overwhelming, being enveloped by the Inexplicably Real John Egbert Apparition like a broken kid who needed support for more than just sitting upright. Somehow he closed his eyes and _hell_ , now he was sobbing helplessly into John's blue-clad shoulder. He'd hate himself if he'd had any cool points left to lose, but that ship had sailed for the horizon hours ago. It was so tempting to relish in the illusion of being safe, but he knew it would only make it hurt even more, later. The knots in his stomach didn't go away, and he had obviously forgotten how to feel any emotion but gut-churning terror – but John was _here_ , and Dave was making an absolute tool of himself, and maybe being slowly tortured to death wasn't the only possible outcome after all. He allowed himself almost five whole seconds of pretending that everything was going to be alright.

"And about Karkat," John said, still holding him, though Dave's shoulders had almost stopped shaking. "It's not the real Karkat from the game, no. But he's really nice, and really really helpful. So there's him and also his mom who is basically Kanaya, and then the catgirl, and they're all working to help us get out of here. And also—"

Dave shuddered. "No way." It was suddenly clear as bottled water. "They set you up. It's a _trap_ , John."

"No, that's—" John tried, but Dave continued.

"They want you to be the second human lab rat and you walked right into it like an ass. Because I did it—I did it first. Fuck you, you should have run the other way. If it's not too late you should _still_ run the other way."

"Dave, you're not making sense."

"I know, I'm the king of incoherent." John didn't listen to him either, but he _had_ to. "Look," he croaked, "They won't let us just walk out of here. And I—walking isn't even going to happen." He didn't disentangle himself to look, but he seriously doubted the mess the trolls had made of his knee would support his weight, and even if it did he'd have to walk on a flayed foot. "So I'll be less than awesome at running and fighting."

"I know," John said, squeezing Dave's body lightly. "I'll handle it."

"Just—" Dave's voice cracked, but only because his throat hurt. Yeah, that would be it. "Get it the fuck over with. You could kill me quickly." It was a ridiculously emo thing to suggest, but fuck, it would _work_.

John shuddered and shifted his arms like he was afraid Dave would slip away and disappear. " _No_ ," he said. "And that's all I'm going to say on the matter, because it's not funny."

"You don't—"

"I said no," John repeated. "Not up for discussion!" He sniffled, and Dave finally realized that John was crying too. His arms were trembling slightly and they had been tense like steel wires strung across an abyss all the while. Now he took a shaky breath and released Dave. "There," he said, as if something had been concluded.

Dave's eyes flicked to the side like John's face was an endangered animal and Dave's gaze was the illegal hunter. "Come on," he whispered. "It'd be easier for both of us."

John shook his head. "Look," he said, "I'm not panicking and I'm not giving up, so you're not allowed to do that either! There's a plan going on and we're going to get out of here in a few minutes. And whatever happens after that I'm not going to let them get to you again, okay? Okay."

Dave nodded weakly. He wanted to believe it, and sure, it might all be sunshine and daisies and friendly trolls in all directions somewhere around here.

"First, I think you should get dressed, though." John gestured at a pile of unfamiliar black clothes bunched up in Dave's lap. "And here, your shades," he added, tugging said shades off his face and putting them resolutely in Dave's hand. "I'm really sorry for borrowing them for so long, but it was the only gadget I had to communicate with people, so I hope you can forgive me."

Dave took the iShades gingerly and looked at them. Instant communication device and trademark fashion accessory in one, and yeah, they were definitely his, no cheap copies. It was the pair Redglare-who-was-not-Terezi had stolen from him. His fingers curled around the frames. "Where did you get them?"

"Believe it or not, Redglare actually gave them to me. You know, Terezi's—"

"Yeah." Dave's shivered; that cinched it. "So she gave my shades to you. She could just as easily have captured you like a sucker and interrogated you to a bloody pulp and sent you off here trussed up like a sack of confiscated cocaine. Or executed you personally for the hell of it. How is this not a trap?"

"It's not!" John protested. "She did do almost all that, even killing me, but that's okay! It wasn't very just, so I got better. And then Karkat convinced her to help instead!"

Dave stared at the wall, feeling a vague draft from somewhere. "You... got better. You're still god tier." It wasn't just the leftover time shit; the freaky game stuff was still alive and active. That wasn't ominous at all. The knots in Dave's stomach were spreading up his chest, making it hard to breathe. "That's great, you can't die. They could keep cutting you into lovely little ribbons of roast beef _literally forever_! Why aren't you running like a windy shoosh thing towards the next galaxy?" He raised his voice almost without noticing it, ignoring the painful rasp of his vocal cords. He wanted John to disappear about as much as he wanted the Grand Highblood to come back, but he couldn't see any acceptable alternatives.

John sighed shakily, like he was too stubborn to agree but too tired to argue. "Because _shut up_ , Dave." He paused. "And would you have left me here if it had been the other way around? Really?"

"Of course the fuck not." This time Dave's voice was barely a whisper.

"So yeah. No giving up."

Dave managed a nod. No giving up – he could do that. Easy as all-american apple pie. He struggled with the shades and tried to remember how to inhale. At least he could put the shades on, even if actually making a difference was beyond him. His left arm was a lot easier to use than the right – of course – though he wasn't sure how much actual load it would take. He suspected John had relocated his shoulder somehow, though who knew how he had known how to do that.

Getting the shades in place felt... nice. They made the world shift into a familiar sharpness of color, making everything seem more real and present, including a certain thirteen-year-old who might once have thought of himself as cool. He raised them slightly again to wipe his eyes, then settled into some semblance of his usual pokerface. "Fuck yeah, Dave Strider is back," he said tonelessly, finally looking directly at John's face.

"Fuck yeah," John agreed, smiling. Dave noticed that it was a strained smile, though, not quite the usual easy Egbert Grin(tm). Frankly, now that he was looking, he could see how utterly exhausted John seemed; sickly pale, unnaturally tense, like he'd gone through some serious shit to get here. Of course he had. He just admitted he'd been _killed_ at one point. _What did you think?_

Dave tried to swallow. Eternally optimistic wind god or not, John might not be awesome at running and fighting either right now. He was, however, awesome at holding out those black pants and getting Dave occupied with trying to get his injured leg through them with a minimum of jolting. Quest for clothes, second verse; something to focus on. Dave managed to stand on his good foot while getting the pants over his ass, and pointedly did not look down at the sloppily wrapped bundle that was his right foot as he struggled to button the fly with his left hand.

John was ready to help him with the sweater as soon as he looked up, and soon enough Dave was dressed in plain, shapeless black, feeling almost like a human being. Funny how that worked.

"Hey," he said quietly, barely voicing it, but he wanted it to be out there. "This thing you're doing. I... Thanks, bro."

"You're welcome," John said, smiling a little again, then shrugged. "Come on, let's go over there." 

He helped Dave move the short distance to the nearest wall, half supporting and half dragging him along, then easing him down to sit against the wall. Dave would have been okay with that even if the pain hadn't been blanketed; every step away was a little victory, and if he wasn't giving up, he'd gulp the little victories down like cheap chocolate. 

And still, he couldn't even see a way for them to leave the room. There was nothing there but five blank walls and one that used to have a door but now seemed to be blocked by a steel bulkhead. He could still feel a slight draft, but no visible ventilation it could come from, so maybe John was just moving around air himself because he could. He'd also brought a sledgehammer. Dave couldn't imagine how he'd had gotten in unnoticed, much less how he planned on getting out. 

"Now what?" he asked. "It's been three minutes, thirteen seconds since you said we had a few minutes."

"Now I'm supposed to make us an exit," John replied. He straightened his back and went to literally open a door in the wall.

Dave stared. "How did you do that?" He could have sworn sincerely on the non-existence of random side-doors.

"The closet?" John turned around, and okay, now Dave could see that it did look more like a closet than an escape tunnel. So John could appearify _useless_ doors, not ones they desperately needed. "I know," John said, "I didn't see it either at first. Some trolls apparently think it's stylish when closets are almost invisible when they're closed. I think it's stupid, but anyway, the catgirl told me about this one when I was panicking before." He glanced at his feet with a half-voiced _heh_. "There's another one on your other side that has a garbage chute which is where I came out of, but the chute is pretty much on fire now, so we can't use it anymore. This one just has some medical stuff."

Just a run-of-the-mill invisible closet. Which couldn't help them escape. Nevermind then. "But you already patched my sorry hide up, so—" Dave began, then snapped his teeth together at a sudden sound. It was a machine-like buzzing or drilling from the other side of the room, more precisely from the bulkhead – like someone on the other side was cutting their way through.

 _Fuck no you can't._ Dave's blood turned to ice right through the new clothes. "There's company," he blurted, scrambling to get back to his feet, nevermind if half his body was practically unusable. He wasn't going to take it sitting down, not _again_ ; he'd stand up and make them _kill_ him, kill _both_ of them, even if he had no idea how.

John cursed, but didn't stop what he was doing. It looked like he was trying to drench bundles of cloth or tissue in some kind of salve, for all the good that would do anyone when a score of bruiserguards got in here guns blazing. 

Dave lost his balance and his plan of standing up against the wall fell hard on its ass, making him cry out when the impact made a good part of his body decide to openly attack him with hot irons. He had to fight his own body _and_ the trolls, but both were losing battles, and somehow he found himself burying his face in his good knee, trying to do shit all. He _had_ hoped, and now he felt sick.

"Dave, have you turned the iShade screen on?"

"What?" _What's the right answer what—_ "No." Yes, of course he should be chatting up John's random new friends who totally weren't just about to cash in on sending specimen point two to the lab.

"Do it, I need to know when Karkat tells us to go! He's supposed to shout right before everything is ready!" 

Dave turned it on. As expected, he was faced with a whole lot of recent chat windows that John had used chatting with his troll 'good guys'. The Karkat one was obvious, but the bottom line of that chat was that very promise John just quoted. "Nothing."

"Fuck, just tell me when he does." John sounded tenser than ever, as if for some reason he was actually terrified too.

Even John would have about as much chance as a frozen frog in an active volcano. He should have left horrible enough alone – human kids vs. Alternia being a doomed fight was practically an undisputable fact written in red chalk on the face of this particular universe's reality. The beat of time was loud in Dave's ears, mixing with the faint machine sound from the bulkhead, but it was far away, almost as far away as the blanketed pain now that he wasn't straining his body. And even if he could have touched it, what good would it do if he couldn't get anyone _away_?

Dave's eyes focused on John's chatlogs. Apparently John had been talking to four people in the last twenty-six minutes; apart from Karkat's gray there was a jade green Kanaya as well as an olive green AC person who typed like that one quirky girl who had trolled Dave approximately once months ago and who had to be the catgirl with the messy bedroom. He couldn't bring himself to read the logs properly – something about escape vessels and school chemistry and paralysis gas and evacuations – just lies, selling John out. 

The fourth one, though, typed in an even more familiar color. Dave drew a sharp breath. _Jade._

Here. On this very planet, spitting further in the face of Dave's hope that he'd been the only one who's splintered off to this place. Shit, what if it wasn't a splinter timeline at all? There was no further depths for Dave's stomach to sink, but suddenly he couldn't tell. One person on alternative Alternia was fucked-up chance, two was coincidence, three was... not. They could easily have scattered here all four of them, alpha timeline fresh. Maybe this was the way it _should_ be. They all had to become troll mincemeat to procreate paradox space somehow. The real meaning of life. 

Dave's hand clenched helplessly in the fabric of his pants. "What are you even doing?" he asked John, who was now randomly standing on the table with the sledgehammer. He was biting his lip and leaning on the handle, as if he was a marathon runner trying to convince himself to go one more mile, and all that would matter if there was a _point_ to it.

"I told you, I'm going to make an exit."

"Tell me you'll take that hammer and play demolition crew on the building until it's a heap of rubble and then piss on the remains," Dave said, falling back on deadbeat irony. "Then we'll brobump over the corpses of our enemies and ride off into the sunset on the ponies that I also wish for."

"I would just bash a hole in the wall with the hammer if I could!" Instead, John raised the hammer and bashed it once into the ceiling, crushing several fleshy tubes and breaking through a layer of ceiling plaster. Above was some kind of grid with colored sacks containing whatever had been going into the tubes. "But we're too far away from the outside, and besides, I..." He detached one hand from the hammer handle and flexed his fingers. The hand might have been shaking. "Meh! Anyway, I'm going to need a bit more of a punch for this, but the catgirl and the Dolorosa told me how. So it's okay. Really, don't worry." He proceeded to pull down a yellow and a violet sack from the ceiling to the table with a thud.

That was reassuring. Still, the way John's jaw was set, the words 'no giving up' were practically tattooed on his face.

That was when the gray-text chat window on the iShades unexpectedly lit up again.

CG: WE SHOULD BE OUT THERE IN ONE MINUTE, SO BE READY TO GO.

Dave's heart skipped a beat. His inner egg timer didn't – it immediately started a countdown, even before he managed to relay the message. "John, your Karkat imitator just said to be ready to go in one minute. Do you have a bomb hidden in the windhood or are you gonna MacGyver one out of—" He stopped. He was the king of incoherent _and_ slow uptake. "That's what you're doing, isn't it?"

John flashed a quick, half-hearted grin at him. "I'm MacGyver," he said. "It's me." 

Shit, there it was again. _Hope._ He almost wanted to laugh at himself. 

The sound from the bulkhead was becoming louder by the second. There was no guarantee they'd have a full minute, but John wasn't wasting any time as he jumped down from the table, picked up a small tray with the slimy bundles he'd made from tissues and salves and then disappeared into what was apparently the second invisible closet. Dave felt a wave of heat from that direction, and a few seconds later John emerged with the whole contents of the tray burning with yellow and blue flames. Apparently he hadn't been kidding about chutes being on fire. 

Spots on the bulkhead was lighting up too, like that was also burning, and whoever was on the other side had to be almost all the way through. "I think we should go _now_ ," John said, glancing at the same thing. "How much too early are we – half a minute?"

"Thirty-eight seconds – thirty-seven. Nevermind, just do it!" Dave sincerely didn't care if the explosion blew them both to smithereens, with or without taking this whole complex down with them. That would still be escape.

"Okay." John took a deep breath and raised the two sacks he'd pulled down on the table up into one of the ceiling corners with a breeze, making Dave's hair whirl. He looked down at Dave and grinned in a way that looked more than a little crazy, holding the tray of fire in one hand and the sledgehammer in the other. "Hold your breath," he said.

Dave held his breath. John pushed the fire tray forward on another gust, flying himself right behind it, swinging the hammer. The pressure in the room changed, making Dave's ears pop and his wounds ache more aggressively, but not for long. 

John's hammer struck home, and everything exploded.


	33. Jade

Jade shivered, but really, she was fine. She was cold and wet and bruised and hungry, and Rose was gone and the future was uncertain and stupid fear was sitting like a heavy rock in her stomach – but her own situation was better than it had been in all the time since she splashlanded on this planet. She wasn't alone among jerkwad enemies anymore. She was _free_ and she had _options_. All she had to do was to figure out what they were.

It disturbed her that the Psionic couldn't make out any sign of the roseterror in the dark sky either, but she couldn't think about that. First things go first, so she went on resolutely to free the Psionic from the rest of the tentacle stuff he was attached to.

The cold, heavy rain was starting to ease up, and that was a relief. By the time Jade was done untangling and detaching the Psionic's legs and feet from the dead hullworms the rain was down to a drizzle, and the best part was that the cloud cover started breaking up, revealing some green moonlight. Jade brushed strands of wet hair off her face and pulled the Psionic's warm body up in her lap again, wrapping her arms around him like she used to do with Bec on a cold night.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "I'm freezing."

"No, it's fine, you can do what you want." The Psionic paused, then added, "I thuppose I'm thort of cold too, thince I'm useless and unmounted."

"You're not useless, that's a stupid thing to say! And you're practically trembling, so I think you're freezing too. Let's try to stay warm and figure out what to do."

"Yes, Jade."

Jade sighed, fiddling with the steel cuffs around her wrists as she raised her head to look around. The hazy green light trickling through the clouds and sparkling on the surface of the sea gave her a much better range of vision than just the Psionic's psychic eyelights, but there wasn't all that much to see. The ocean was still and peaceful now, which felt weird after all that destruction. A few pieces of the shattered ships were floating around the glittering seascape like dark icebergs, with Jade and the Psionic perched near the top of one of the larger ones. The only sound was the soft clucking of ripples against the wreckage, and nothing seemed to move. No sharks, no squiddles, and no other survivors in sight.

Jade was glad that nothing moved, though the scenery somehow reminded her of a very desolate Land Of Wreckage And Corpses, and for a moment she almost wished she was back in the Incipisphere. The game had been more painful and dangerous than she had expected for all those years she'd been waiting for it, but Alternia was _worse_ , and she'd never expected it at all – even though being here was mostly her fault for initiating that stupid plan to crash the game and cheat their way out of it. She shuddered, and not because of the cold this time.

"Can you see her now that there's more light?" she asked the Psionic, trying not to be nervous about the answer. Part of the sky was still pitch black, and Jade herself couldn't make out anything, but her own nearsighted human eyes were pretty useless all things considered.

"No," he replied with a small sigh, crushing her hopes. "I thee clouds, but that's it."

"Maybe she'd look like a cloud? A weird black tentacled one, but..."

The Psionic shook his head slightly. "No, I'm thorry. It would have been great to thee her even if she did turn into a horrormonster, but there's nothing there. I guess she could be hovering above the clouds or halfway to the purple moon or wreaking havoc on the mainland or five thousand feet below us messing with the theadwellers or thomewhere else altogether."

"But—"

"I'm thorry, mis—Jade."

"Okay." Jade swallowed. "Then we have to find out where she went!"

"Yes, if that was even thlightly possible. But you don't even have a ship, and we're thitting quackbirds for recapture here. Basically it'll all get back to normal life thoon, and fuck Rose, she's lost even if she hadn't turned monstrous. I don't know what I was thinking." He snorted, like he was trying to dismiss the whole thing. "At least she went out with a hell of a bang."

"Shut up!" Jade barked. "If she's lost she can be found, right? And we can't just give up! If we're defenseless right now we just have to make sure we're less defenseless before anyone finds us!" She took one of his hands and squeezed it. "I should go look for some kind of gun," she decided. "I'm a pretty good shot. There are at least two corpses down there—" she gestured down the slope to where she could just barely make out the dead trolls she had passed earlier in the darkness "—so that's a good place to start, unless you know some kind of storage that might have survived?"

The Psionic hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. I guess you could also look in the remains of the respite blocks to the left. It's not like there's much else to work with."

"Those were respite blocks?" She noticed there seemed to be a few broken walls and even a bit of the deck above still attached on that side. "That's good! Do you think anyone kept any food in those rooms? Because food is the other thing I need to go look for." She grimaced, as mentioning it made her very aware of the emptiness in her stomach. "I haven't eaten in... I can't even remember. Maybe two days."

"I don't know about food. That's not thomething I kept any track of." He made a clicking sound. "Fuck, I guess I'm going to get hungry too before I'm remounted."

Jade frowned at him. "Yeah, getting hungry tends to happen if you don't eat. Please don't tell me they only fed you intravenously by slime tube...?"

"It's comfortable enough."

"Oh god, I hate Alternia." Jade shook her head. "Anyway, we also have to find land somehow. I don't know if it helps, but I've got a pretty good resolution global map available on my lunchtopshoe computer, and if you know where your ship was then maybe—" 

The Psionic interrupted her with a sound somewhere between a gasp and a giggle. "Theriously?" He stared at her feet. "A computer?"

"Yes, seriously! I've been wearing a lot of computers like a sensible person, so I still have these." She wriggled a foot to demonstrate. "They were pretty buggy for browsing the Alternian internet last time I tried, but I think the chat works fine, and I did find that map – I just don't know where on the map we are."

"Ehehe." The Psionic's mouth twisted into a fanged smile. "You've theriously got an alien technology computer in your _footwear_ and it's buggy." He looked strangely eager for some reason, like that was the best thing Jade had said yet. "Fuck, I shouldn't even ask this, but I don't thuppose it would be thomehow possible for you to let me look at it? I bet I could fix the issue. I used to be half a genius with computers and hacking and shit as a wiggler."

"Oh!" Maybe she should have expected that, since Sollux had been the hacker troll too. "Of course you can take a look at it! I think it would be really useful if we could browse the Alternian web. Perhaps we could even use it to find out where Rose is if she turns up on some news?" She leaned over to reach the switch and turn on the virtual screen. "It's actually less Earth technology and more mine and my grandpa's personal stuff with a bit of magical alchemy mixed in," she explained as the screen and keyboard flicked into existence.

"Eheh, okay, I'll take your word for that." His smile faded. "But..."

"But what?"

"But trying to find RS by the news would be massively thtupid and less than helpful. That would be like begging to be killed in interesting ways to try to intervene once the government is bringing her down."

Jade grimaced. "Don't be so negative! I still think it's worth checking! And besides, one of my other friends has already been captured by the government, so—" She stopped in her tracks, finally registering the open window on the screen. "Oh m'god!"

"What's up?"

"It's John!! He's online!"

John had left a long-ish message quite a while ago, probably when Jade had been too occupied with Mindfang or the roseterror to notice the ping. He hadn't said anything since then, but his name was still lit up. Jade felt her heart racing as she read.

EB: hello?  
EB: jade?  
EB: are you asleep or something? it says you're idle.  
EB: for the sake of the argument i'm going to assume everything is perfectly alright. because sleeping is a very normal thing to do, especially for you!  
EB: we keep missing each other, like...  
EB: it keeps hapening!  
EB: anyway, you're a prisoner on a ship?  
EB: and rose is with THE marquise spinneret mindfang??  
EB: that's... wow.  
EB: ugh.  
EB: i'd try to find you right away, but i can't.  
EB: don't worry, i'm not in any trouble!  
EB: well, i died, but i got better so that's ok.  
EB: but dave is.  
EB: i mean, not dead, but in trouble! like really bad. :(  
EB: and i'm on my way to help him right now.  
EB: i'm typing this from his shades btw.  
EB: so basically, and this is a serious friendleaderly requestorder: you hang in there, ok?  
EB: and talk to me when you wake up! i'll still be online.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] is now an idle chum --

The update was a little bit worrisome, but Jade was mostly relieved. John sounded well enough, and the dying had to mean he still had his godtier powers – which meant the game wasn't gone _at all_ , so the spacey thing had definitely not been a fluke, and _everything_ about the game crashing plan been a horrible mistake, but... Having special powers was pretty much unequivocally a good thing in a place like this. And if Dave really was the one Dualscar had said was in "official custody", then at least John seemed to be in a position to help him, so that was still good news.

She needed to talk to John. She needed to know that things were going to work out.

GG: john!!!  
GG: john are you there?  
EB: oh!  
EB: shit jade, this isn't a good time!  
EB: but are you alright? are you safe??  
GG: yes im fine for the moment!  
EB: thank GOG.  
GG: im not a prisoner anymore and im on a shipwreck with solluxs ancestor  
GG: but  
GG: uh  
GG: nevermind!  
GG: are you and dave alright?  
EB: yes absolutely!!!  
EB: except no, especially not him, but i'm supposed to get him out of here and everything is fucked up!  
EB: i just pulled down a bulkhead but the guards are right outside trying to break in, and everyone is trying to talk to me at once, and the escape route is on fire, and dave is really really hurt and also unconscious now, and  
EB: aaaaaaarrrgghh!!!!!!  
GG: oh nooo :(  
GG: john calm down!!!  
GG: take a deep breath  
EB: yeah...  
EB: ok.  
EB: sorry, i didn't mean to go off like that.  
EB: damn it jade, i'm a mess. :(  
GG: its fine, john  
GG: please dont give up!  
EB: i'm not!  
EB: it's fine. i can handle this.  
GG: <3  
EB: i've got three troll ancestor friends trying to work things out, and i've found the bandages.  
EB: i will talk to you later!  
GG: wait!  
GG: tell me where you are!  
GG: whats going on??

There was no reply, and Jade spent several seconds just staring blankly at the pesterlog. Finally she remembered to take her own advice, but it was a shaky breath, and the lump in her guts seemed to have doubled in size. She'd wanted reassurance, but she wasn't going to get that, was she? She could only guess how much it would take to rattle John like that, and Dave was apparently hurt and unconscious and maybe dying for all she knew. She couldn't even be surprised, not after Rose, but it still _hurt_. When she blinked there were tears running down her cheeks again, but she angrily wiped them away.

"Tho that's the other two humans," the Psionic said, breaking the silence. "And you thaid they're captured by the government?"

"Yeah, I think so," Jade said, sniffing involuntarily. "But they'll be fine." She _had_ to believe that. "I just wish there was something I could do for them. It's _infuriating_ to be helpless, and I've been so helpless ever since I ended up on this grubfucking planet!"

The Psionic snorted at that. "It's not tho bad. I'm pretty sure being helpless is just a fact of life."

Jade shook her head violently. "No! I'm not accepting that."

"Anyway, I guess Rose was right that all four of you human aliens landed alive on Alternia. I'm not sure if I should congratulate you or offer condolences, tho maybe both."

"Neither. At least not yet." Jade forced her chin up. The rain had stopped altogether by now, and she vaguely registered the purple moon peeking over the horizon in the distance. "I trust John! He's a lot tougher than he looks, and he's got an edge because he's sort of a god, and he said he's got help, too! And Dave is..." Her face fell again and her hands turned into fists in the Psionic's lap. "Dammit, I just wish I knew how bad he's hurt. And where they are. And anything other than that John is scared and Dave is hurt and Rose turned into a horrorterror." She paused to take another deep, shaky breath. "Ugh, I'm so glad I didn't mention that last one to John."

"It's not like you can do a shit about them anyway, tho perhaps you shouldn't think about them. It never helps, and then you just get thad and angry. Weren't you going to do thtuff?"

Jade closed her eyes before she managed to collect herself enough to agree. "Yeah. You're right. I should make sure _we_ make it for now." It only made sense. She sighed again and hugged the Psionic tighter, not sure if it was for his benefit or hers. Eventually she reluctantly put him down on the wet slope and stumbled to her feet, pulling her lunchtopshoes and socks off though she left the screen online. Her feet were soggy and wrinkled after spending so long in wet shoes, so getting them out for air felt pretty good despite the cold.

"I'm going to go explore," she told him. "If you want to look at the computer..." She hesitated, feeling like an idiot. "Oh no, I'm sorry. I'll need to help you with that, don't I?"

The Psionic squinted at the virtual screen. "I thuppose there is no biointerface."

"No." Jade squatted down next to him again. "There's just this virtual keyboard, and..." She made a gesture with her hand, trying to indicate that you need arms and hands with usable muscles for it without actually being rude enough to say so outright.

The Psionic glared at his own right hand, frowning. It slowly flexed to a very loose fist, then back again, which was probably more than a human in his condition would have managed, but it did seem to take a lot of effort. "Fuck," he said tightly. "Fuck meathands and fuck keyboards."

"Maybe we can—"

There was a tiny flicker of red-and-blue lightning in the Psionic's eyes, but only for a moment, and the next instant he clamped his teeth shut, his face tensing into a mask of horror. Jade started reflexively, glancing around for hidden enemies and half expecting Mindfang herself creeping up behind them, but no, she couldn't see anything. "What's the matter?" she blurted.

"I'm thorry," the Psionic said, too quickly. "I'm tho thorry."

"What?" Jade tilted her head.

All she got was another mumbled apology. "I'm thorry."

"But what did you do?" It didn't make sense. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to forgive you for!"

The Psionic exhaled slowly, only relaxing a fraction. "Yes, I know, you're fucking weird and alien, it's like you've never even been schoolfed on Alternian things, which you haven't. Tho maybe you don't even care?" He still sounded terrified.

Jade sat down again and crossed her legs, ignoring the sloshing of her soaked, tattered skirt. "What is it that I don't care about?" she asked.

"Rogue psionics." It was barely more than a whisper.

"Psionics? You mean your powers? Does that mean you're up to using them?" The thought that _he_ wasn't as defenseless as he looked actually made the pressure on her chest ease up a bit. "But that's _great_!" 

"No, it's not."

Jade had started to smile, but then she facepalmed instead. "Oh no, this is a slave thing, isn't it? Why can't you believe me when I say you're _not_ a slave anymore! You're completely free to use your powers if you want to!"

"No." He shook his head. "I _can't_."

"But you can! You almost did a moment ago, didn't you?" What else could that electrical flash have been? "And then you stopped yourself because you've got stupid hangups!" Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. Jade did realize there had to be horrible reasons for those hangups, but she couldn't bear to think about it. "Look," she said instead, "I'm guessing your psionics are some kind of electrical powers or telekinesis that you could use to drive the ship, right?"

"Both," the Psionic admitted quietly.

"Nice!" Jade nodded. "And a minute ago you _were_ about to use those to get on my computer, right?"

"I'm thorry," he said again, as if it was a reflex. "It was like I was a brain damaged wiggler and the alien tech was a forbidden thnack thtack. It's not going to happen again."

"Stop apologizing! Listen to me! I _want_ it to happen again! It would be _good_ if you could use your powers! You could do all sorts of things, like help us get away from this wreck and not get captured again! Don't you see? Don't _you_ want that?"

"No," he said, but then he went quiet, turning his face away from Jade as if he was arguing silently with himself.

"Look," Jade said again. "If you need my permission for some reason, you _have_ my permission. You have my blessing, even!"

The Psionic didn't reply, but he squeezed his eyes shut and wriggled his fingers slightly in what looked like frustration.

Jade sighed again and rubbed her arms. She had no idea how to handle this. "I'm sorry too," she said. "I can't force you to do anything, because you're _not_ my slave, see? I just wish we could both do our best and work together, and it doesn't really make sense to me that you'd feel so guilty about doing something that you _can_ do to help. Unless there is some kind of good reason not to?" She chewed on her lip and waited for a response.

"I'm a helmsman," the Psionic mumbled after a few seconds. He still didn't look up at her. "I'm meant to be mounted thomewhere. Rogue psionics are disgusting and abominable and I _want_ to help, but I don't..." His voice turned into an undecipherable murmur, though Jade thought she could make out the word 'temptation'.

"No one is going to hurt you!" Jade shook her head, more than a little bit irritated. "Please, don't be a helmsman, just be yourself!" 

The Psionic didn't reply. Sure, this was nicer than arguing with Dualscar, but so would arguing with a dozen angry Karkats be, so that wasn't saying much. She wondered if it would help to give the Psionic some space to think. And herself too for that matter, before she went stir-crazy.

She stumbled back to her feet, rubbing her ice cold arms. "I'll be down there," she told him. "If you _can_ manage to use your powers, I think you should! Just don't break anything, okay?" She paused. "And if you really can't do it, I guess I'll help you with the computer after I've checked out the wreck." With that, Jade turned her back on him and started to make her way barefoot down the deck towards the two fresh corpses.

Examining the dead trolls near the bottom of the slope gave her something to do that wasn't completely frustrating, so that was good. Troll corpses weren't really any more or less gross than any other dead things, at least not now that she was no longer running completely on adrenaline and terror. It even occurred to her that they might be edible, though that struck her as being against the rules somehow. Her stomach didn't agree, so she decided to consider it if she didn't find anything else. 

The first one she searched seemed to have carried a handgun once, because there was a holster strapped to her leg, but the gun itself was nowhere to be seen. Jade supposed she must have dropped it – probably when her arm was torn off, because that was missing too, together with half her ribcage. Her brown blood had been mostly washed away by the rain or coagulated already. Jade poked the body with her toes and went on to the other corpse. 

The second one didn't have any sign of a gun at all, but he did have a cutlass still sheathed on his belt. Jade pulled it out enough to see that it was still sharp, then sheathed it again and took the whole thing, belt and all, hanging it over her shoulder. She'd never used a sword, but having a cutlass had to be better than being unarmed, and swordfighting didn't look so hard when Dave did it. The basic idea was to stick them with the pointy end. Anyway, it was a weapon and therefore a good thing to hang on to.

Having done that, Jade plopped down at the corner where the broken hull and the tilted floor that used to be a lower deck met the edge of the water. Rubbing her feet, she almost regretted going barefoot – the scattered debris and the splintery holes didn't make for a very comfortable ground to walk on. But then again, aching feet was just another annoyance, like the bruises and rashes and the stupid cuffs sticking to her wrists like ugly bracelets. Her hands were just a tiny bit too big for her to be able to pull the cuffs off without breaking bones or dislocating thumbs, though she wasn't sure exactly how she could tell. In any case, none of those annoying things would kill her, so they didn't matter. 

She glanced back up towards the Psionic, though she couldn't see more than a vague red-blue shine that told her that he was still there, but not what he was doing. Hopefully he was doing _something_. She'd give him more time, though.

Her eyes drifted down the side of the wreck, noticing a cluster of bright purple clams sticking to the remains of the ship's hull a mere foot below the surface. That was promising. What if they were edible? She had no way of telling on her own, but it was worth trying, so she reached down and managed to break two big ones off from the cluster. Maybe 'clams' weren't the right word, and not 'oysters' or even 'mussels' either, but they were definitely some kind of alien bivalves, squeezing themselves shut in her hands. She hoped the Psionic could tell her if they were outright poisonous, because otherwise they looked enough like food to make her lick her lips. She tucked them under her belt for keeping.

The so-called respite blocks turned out to be mostly a disappointment. Most of the walls that were still standing were cracked and would probably fall if she pushed them too hard. Whatever stuff had been inside them had been tossed around and broken or lost through the missing pieces of the hull. She found one more dead troll, though he seemed to have been unarmed, and a whole lot of broken glass and sharp pieces of some other material that she didn't completely manage to avoid stepping on. 

She was still swearing silently about the blood on her foot when she found the only one of the rooms that was intact enough to deserve to be called a 'room'. If it started raining again this place would be almost as good as a cave for shelter, actually. It was predictably filled with pitch blackness since the moonlight didn't reach all the way inside, but Jade decided to be thorough, so she felt her way in on hands and knees with a piece of broken flooring in one hand to sweep down any sharp shards to the lower end of the room. 

There seemed to be a piece of furniture attached to the remains of the inner hull which was the room's far wall. At first she thought it was a bench or a bed, but then she realized it was a chest. A whole, unbroken seaman's chest, presumably still filled. Jade's eyes widened even though that was a silly thing to do in a dark room. Best of all, the chest didn't even seem to have a proper lock, so it was just closed with a bunch of tight metallic fasteners that she didn't have much trouble finding and undoing. She vaguely considered the fact that it might be full of Mindfang's pet spiders, but it didn't stop her from pushing the lid up, eagerly groping for the contents.

It wasn't spiders. It wasn't food or weapons either, but it was almost as good. _Cloth._ Her hands touched soft, wonderful, warm, _dry_ cloth, and she almost had to laugh. It was so nice! She scoped up an armful of the stuff and hurried back out into the moonlight, where she saw with excitement that it was actually an assortment of clothes.

She was in a much better mood when she climbed back up to the Psionic with her loot. She felt even better when she saw him, because he wasn't lying down limply any longer – he was sitting up and using her virtual keyboard. She might have squeaked a bit, and she would definitely have clapped her hands if she hadn't been holding a bundle. His posture and movements were sort of stiff and weird, but that was only natural. There were tiny sparks of red or blue lighting erupting from his eyes and limbs, and she supposed he had to be using some kind of telekinesis on his own body to make up for his atrophied muscles.

"Wow," she said out loud as she came closer. "That's so cool!"

The Psionic froze. "I..." he began, not looking up at her. He seemed to be breathing too fast. "I did what you asked."

"Yes, and that's _great_!" Jade told him with a grin. She dropped her bundle on the deck, taking care to at least not drop it in a puddle, then kneeled down and hugged him again. He was cooler than before and stiff as a plank, but it didn't matter. "I'm so glad that you're up!"

"It's unnatural," he mumbled. "I guess I'm an abomination now, and you're happy."

"Yes, I'm definitely happy!" Jade let go of him. "How do you feel?"

"Like my tongue is thtuck in the mind honey pot and I'm going insane with logaritmic thpeed. This is going to be all thorts of nubmeltingly painful when I'm reinstated, but fuck the future I guess. I like your computer shoe. It's cool." He flashed her a quick smile. "Ehehe."

Jade found herself giggling. "Thanks," she said. "So did you get the internet working?"

"Of course. It was a piece of thpongy baked goods."

"Yay! Did you find anything there?"

He nodded. "I'm working on decrypting a policeradicator rapport that theems to deal with a newtype alien thimilar to you and Rose. But it's probably old news by now and I don't thuppose it will tell you a shit that you don't already know. I also found this." He brought up a picture on the screen.

Jade leaned closer to look. It seemed to be a dark photograph. Something about the haziness made her wonder if it might be taken underwater. At first she couldn't quite make out the motive, but then her eyes focused on a long tendril of deeper darkness, and once she saw that she realized that two-thirds of the picture was made up by a myriad tentacles, silhouetted in black on black. Her heart skipped a beat. "Rose?"

"Maybe. Thome theadweller took this picture and is right now involved in a public discussion on, I quote, 'Gl'bgolyb's little hatchling'."

"Where is she? I mean, if it _is_ her?"

The Psionic brought up the digital globe. "This area," he said, zooming in a bit over a stretch of ocean and pointing with the cursor. "Four thousand five hundred feet below the thurface according to the photographer, but that was fifteen minutes ago, tho who knows."

Jade bit her lip, but she refused to let all that cheer she had just found go to waste. "They're not hunting her yet, at least," she said, trying to look at it from the bright side. "And where are we?"

The Psionic turned the globe slightly and zoomed in on a different area. "Thort of approximately here," he said, indicating a rough location. "But thurprise, I don't have a navigation thystem to work from, tho it's not like I can navigate us anywhere. Also, you thtill don't have a ship, tho yeah."

"Hmmm." Jade frowned. Rose's location was in the opposite direction of the closest land, which was a peninsula marked 'Gartana'. It would definitely be safer to try to reach land, but that would mean giving up on Rose for now. _Dammit._ She didn't know what was the right thing to do, or even exactly how to do it, so she decided that first things had to go first again. In this case the first thing was to get warm and dry, then to get less hungry. 

A few minutes later she had rummaged through the clothes pile and found a plain black sweater with a green mark plus a dark gray skirt for herself and a nice long coat in dark blue for the Psionic to put over his tight bodysuit. Jade had to coax him through putting it on properly, but then he admitted that it was comfortable, so it was all good.

She considered wearing the sweater and skirt on top of the remains of her eclectica dress, but it was tattered and damp and salt-crusted and probably not worth keeping, even though she had liked it. Instead she threw the dress away before she wriggled into the new clothes, shaking out her hair and folding the too long sleeves up around the remains of the shackles. It felt _glorious_ , even though it was just a set of ugly oversized clothes.

"So!" she said, dropping down again to sit on the remains of the pile, determined to take one thing at a time. "Do you know if these are edible?" She held up the purple clams for the Psionic.

He blinked at her. "I'm a helmsman," he said, apparently confused. "And I used to be a landdweller wiggler. How the fuck would I know?"

"Wellll..." Maybe the answer was _too_ obvious? "If you don't know, perhaps we can find out online?"

The Psionic's expression went carefully blank, but it didn't take him many seconds to find a database of Alternian bivalves. Jade wondered if the task had been too mundane for him to think of or if it just had been too long since he'd used troll internet like a normal person. It definitely seemed like the useful information existed there, in any case.

"Yeah," the Psionic concluded, though Jade had already seen the answer on the screen. "It's perfectly edible. It's not like it's a delicacy, but it's not poisonous either. Go ahead and eat, I guess."

"And raw is fine?" The text didn't seem to say.

"If there are any other ways of eating mollusks I've never heard of them, tho duh."

That was as good as it was going to get, because no one was going to be able to tell her exactly how healthy it was for a _human_ , but it was good enough. Jade leveraged one of them against the other to crack it open, then scoped the inside up with her teeth. It was soft and salty and with an odd aftertaste, but definitely not bad. She gulped the other one up too, and it turned out that not being starving was at least as nice as not being cold and wet. She considered going down and getting more of them, but when she looked up her heart sank again. There was a small light out at sea. 

She made herself point it out. "Please tell me that is not a ship?"

"It is, though."

"Can you tell if it's coming this way?"

"I don't know, but I guess it looks like it's pointed in this direction."

 _Oh noo._ "We should move. Or hide, at least." Maybe it'd be nothing – Jade thought the light she had seen earlier must have been someone just passing them by – but they really _were_ sitting ducks here. How fast could that ship—

She lost both her train of thought and the Psionic's reply when her computer suddenly pinged. It said John was pestering her again.

EB: hey  
EB: jade


	34. Dave

Dave slammed into the floor right-side first, and for almost four seconds he was wrapped in glaring white-hot agony again. He couldn't hear himself scream; he couldn't see for the bright black spots covering his eyes; he barely noticed himself rolling over on his back but then _he was still on the table and he couldn't make them stop cutting fuckfuckfuck pleaseno killmealready_

The pain sank away. Not disappearing, but fucking off once more to some backwater end of his mind where it wasn't in the way of everything else. Dave found himself gasping for air and staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, trying to remember that he wasn't – _wasn't_ still with the trolls and the scalpels and the questions. It was a different ceiling in a completely different place and he had no idea if he hoped to live or die. 

John had brought him out. John had—

That MacGyvered bomb had done its job and blasted them a way out. John must have somehow projected the force outwards and away from the room, and then he'd picked up Dave on a gust and flown them both through twenty or thirty feet of crumbling architecture and bleeding alien tentacle worms to get them outside.

'Outside' being _outer fucking space_.

Either that or Dave really _had_ been hallucinating. How the hell would he know? Can a guy still feel pain when he's off the meathook delirious? 

They had hung there practically clinging to an intact part of the enormous spaceship or space station or whatever it was, basking in the unreal light of the trollplanet for nineteen whole seconds. Somehow they didn't suffocate or turn into vacuum splatter or ice cubes, but John smiled like he rather wanted to cry and Dave was too dumbstruck to speak at all, much less ask for explanations. It vaguely crossed his mind that yes, running had been an idiot plan.

And then a smaller spaceship thing had come into view with a large gaping opening on the closest end, and Dave had been practically thrown into it like a wet rag. Being a wet rag was better than being sliced bread.

In conclusion, now should be the time when John declared a homerun and everything would be butterflies. Dave made an effort to relax, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the celebration, trying to convince himself against all instincts that he was safe. He was a goddamn pill bottle with all this safety. He moved his good hand, confirming again with his fingers that this was a dirty floor, not a sterile table. So yeah. Maybe he could believe it _was_ over. 

Except—"John." The dry croak was a sorry excuse for his own voice. He tried again. "Hey, John."

No response. Dave heard nothing but the buzz of an engine and the whiz of moving air, and the air was already settling down when he noticed it. _What the hell._ The knot inside him that had been on the verge of easing up pulled tight again. He tried turning his head around, but he was too low on the floor to see much. Four seconds of no reply – five, six. 

"John!" Dave's heart was trying to run away from him again, the beats thrashing hotly against his wounds. John couldn't be gone. He _had_ been there. Otherwise Dave would still be tied to the surgery table like a piece of meat instead of tossed inside a spaceship also like piece of meat and _where the hell was John?_

Of course he wasn't panicking. John had obviously not just disappeared or died or been captured for torture, and he wasn't thinking of it either. He just completely unrelatedly had to get up, _now_. A simple sit-up was out of the question with so much of his right side shredded to aching trash, and his left arm was reluctant to carry enough of his weight to push him up, but he didn't care. His eyes teared up as his shoulder threatened to dislocate itself again, but _he didn't care_.

Come to think of it, he had no clue where this was. It could be a miracle space bus to Earth or it could be a first class seat on the ferry back to pain park, and one of those alternatives suddenly seemed much more likely than the other. Of course it was a trap. _Shit shit shit no._ He was sweating when he finally made himself sit upright, his left leg folded for balance, his left shoulder throbbing and the right side of his chest burning wetly under his sweater.

Because sitting made such a whooping difference. There was no way in a dozen hells he'd be able to walk, and even less likely that he'd hold his own against a troll toddler in diapers. At least he had a point of view higher than worm perspective like this, but he still couldn't see John. Dave seemed to be alone in some kind of empty cargo hold, only about twice as big as his old bedroom. The opening he had entered through was closed, and there was no one and nothing in here except for some ugly industrial shelves and—

His stomach clenched. John _was_ here. At least there was a heap of something bright blue half-hidden behind one of the shelves, though it was still and silent in exactly the way John Egbert should not be. Dave would have hauled himself over there even if he'd have to crawl, but he didn't get the chance. The very next second a door behind him slid open, and then the trolls were upon him.

He froze into an icicle. All systems offline, like maybe it would hurt less that way. He kept staring at the glimpse of blue behind the shelf until it was blocked from view, and then his eyes fell. His good hand clenched into a trembling fist, but fighting was not on the menu. The trolls didn't even bother to restrain him this time, like he was some kind of broken, helpless thing that could barely move on his own, which happened to be the ridiculously sincere truth. The only battle he had the power to fight was the one against his own urge to scream, because this wasn't over and it wasn't _going_ to be over, and if John was alive Dave didn't doubt the Grand Highblood would make him watch his friend get cut to ribbons, too.

The beat of time seemed close again, mixing with Dave's uselessly pounding heart and uneven breaths, but it was only so much mindless noise in his head. There was nowhere to run even if he had been physically able to. It took a moment for an outside sound to get through and make him realize that someone was trying to talk to him, and even then he still failed to sort out the words until the troll repeated one. "Kitten?"

 _Her._ Dave would have preferred one of the bruiserguards. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was the Arizona desert so that didn't happen. Yes, John had said to trust her, but John wasn't saying a thing now, was he? The catgirl secretary had promised to help Dave and then handed him over to the vivisectorturers practically in the next breath. Why the fuck would she be doing anything different this time? Dave clenched his teeth, but his chest was shaking with half-repressed sobs. He was irrationally grateful that the shades gave him the slightest illusion of not being exposed like a washed out photograph.

"Hello? Can you hear me at all? Come on, it's okay." Her voice was deceptively soft. Like a tiger trying to charm a mouse. Like hell it was okay.

He did force himself to raise his face before she decided to do it for him, though. The catgirl was looking at him with a tilted head and a small smile, as if she found his helplessness to be adorable. He bet she got off on it, like every other grinning troll in existence. Next to her was a nubby-horned guy who was obviously Karkat in the same way that Redglare had been Terezi, dressed in the same kind of plain black sweater as Dave was wearing. There was also a tall woman in a green dress who looked like Kanaya, completing the set. John's _friendly trolls_.

And then John himself. Not-Kanaya had gone and picked him up, and now he was hanging limply like a blue puppet bride in her arms. His face was pale as tissue paper and looked about as animate. Dave couldn't even see if he was breathing or not, but in either case the trolls had him and this was all Dave's fault for being the fucking goddamn _bait_.

"Fuck you," he whispered, because mouthing off was always the best thing to do. "What did you—did you do to John?" It was hard to summon the energy to speak, and his voice was as steady as a scratched record.

The trolls glanced at each other as if the question was imbecile. Then all three of them tried to start talking at once, like they were suddenly all too eager to educate Dave on the matter of out-of-commission Egberts. Unexpectedly, not-Karkat shushed the other two and went down on his knees to be eye-level with Dave. 

"We haven't done anything to John," he said gently. The voice was Karkat's, but the tone was about as far from a shouty rant as it was possible to come without shutting up altogether, and for some reason it came across as alarmingly sincere. "I get how abysmal this must look like to you, but it's not—"

"Is he dead." Dave's words came out toneless and too fast.

Not-Karkat shook his head quickly. "No, no, no, and thank any god that's listening."

"He's unconscious," not-Kanaya said, watching the boneless form in her arms. "But since he doesn't seem to be wounded I doubt the affliction is lethal."

"Exactly," not-Karkat added. "I swear, we haven't hurt him and he's not dying or anything."

"So what—why—" _Fuck._ The words were hoops and Dave simply wasn't cool enough to jump through them. He was defenseless and _John_ was defenseless and there was a sticky film of dread suffocating him like a plastic bag.

"As far as we can tell he dropped from sheer bloody exhaustion," the not-Karkat troll said. "Probably about as soon as he judged it was safe to relax. So if anything you should probably ask what the fuck he did to himself, but I think the short answer to that question is _too damn much_. He just needs rest." Not-Karkat looked up at not-Kanaya who nodded and started to turn away with John.

Funny how that explanation wasn't even implausible. John _had_ looked like he'd been carrying a mountain to the moon. For Dave's sake, because Dave was a fucking blooper on the screenplay of paradox space and John was too much of an idiot to give up on a lost cause. Dave almost managed a deep breath, but it hitched and broke like crackers. He wanted to laugh, but he couldn't remember how. "So that's what you'll do? Tuck him in and let him sleep until he's fine and dandy?" It was a bad joke.

"Hopefully, yes," not-Kanaya said. Whatever that was supposed to mean. The next moment she disappeared with John through that door behind Dave, and then John was actually _gone_.

"Don't look so scared," the catgirl said, as if all manners of terror had been written in red ink across Dave's face. "I'm really, really sorry about what happened last time, but we _are_ escaping now!" She leaned down and reached out a hand towards Dave. "Come on, we—"

Dave flinched violently, even though her hand only lightly touched his back. He didn't even hear the end of her sentence, because a troll was _grabbing_ him, and everything else faded away in the face of the massive physical certainty of humiliation and pain and _fucknopleaseno NO_

Nothing happened. 

There was a sound like a hand slapping flesh, but it didn't hit him. Instead the catgirl pulled away like she'd been burned by an ill fire that Dave definitely didn't light. "You're just scaring him _more_ , Kitty," the Karkat troll said from somewhere beyond the rush in Dave's ears, and for some reason his hand was on the catgirl's wrist. "Go check navigation again and see if there's any way we can not get ourselves blown to bulge-sized chunks."

"But—"

"I'll handle this. We'll be right there."

"Fine," the catgirl said, and then, facing Dave, "I'm sorry." She disappeared the same way Kanaya had.

Dave watched his own fingers twitch. Maybe he should be reassured. John had said they were helping. They didn't act hostile. Perhaps the reasonable thing to do would be to relax and smile like a doofus high on helium. Or not. Dave was still trembling like a high-strung wire above the Grand Canyon, and he couldn't make himself stop. Trolls loved blood and pain; it was in their murderhappy torturelaws, so of course they would definitely go against that for no reason without any sort of ulterior motives.

"Hey," not-Karkat said after a couple of seconds of complete silence. "I'm the signless fool that John calls Karkat. You're Dave Strider, right?"

He asked in a different way than the Grand Highblood had, but Dave still shuddered. "Yes." It came out a whisper.

The troll nodded. "You know," he said seriously, "I don't blame you one shit for not trusting us."

"Whatever," Dave mumbled. "You're a supportive piece of shit and I'm falling down all this trust." Nonsense in-jokes were never inappropriate.

The Signless Karkat didn't engage. "Look, I've got a pretty good idea of what you've been through, and it makes me fucking ashamed to the bone of my own planet. This is exactly the kind of thing that proves to anyone with half an inclination to think that Alternian society is rotten to the shitstain bottom of its big black bucket, but the problem is that most people are too brainwashed to even try to see that." He paused slightly. "I have no idea how to even begin to apologize on behalf of my species, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Dave opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Now he was a fish, great. Most likely his mind had crumbled like an old donut hours ago. At least the shades hid the fact that he wasn't looking at the Signless Karkat's face while he stalled. _John said this guy was 'nice'._ Being ideologically opposed to torturing alien children would qualify as nice. And that explained everything in the most inanely saccharine way possible. When Dave found his voice it was only barely trembling. "Okay, you're troll Robin Hood stealing alien guinea pigs from the evil highblood of Nottingham. Got it. But what do you want with us?"

"I want to get you down to the surface in one piece for starters," the troll said with a small smile that somehow didn't look menacing on Karkat's face. "Assuming we all survive, it's up to you and John what you want to do next."

This time Dave actually did manage a deep breath. Fuck, he wanted to believe so badly that it ached right through everything else, but for all he knew John was already dead or worse and these trolls were lying through their teeth for the hilariousness of it all. "Okay," he said quietly. "You're breaking the terrorlaw because of the goodness in your heart, and there's not a single thing in it for you."

"Yeah, well," the Signless not-Karkat said with a bit of a sad grimace, "You've probably gotten the impression that Alternia is the heartless taint of the universe, and that's not even a mistaken conclusion, but that still doesn't mean all trolls are grubfucking shitbags. And I actually believe _most_ trolls could be non-shitbags if they just managed to open their eyes and see what the fuck it is they're doing, but that's a digression. The short explanation is that we're helping you because _yes_ , it's the right fucking thing to do, and also because John refused to give up. He cares a hell of a lot about you."

Dave nodded mutely. He didn't know what else to say.

"If it makes it any easier for you to believe me, what was the blood color of the Karkat from that fucked up game of yours?"

Dave flinched again, hard. _Shit what does he want to hear what's believable what's the right—_

"Fuck, I'm sorry!" the Signless Karkat almost yelled. Dave forced his eyes open to see the troll holding his hands up in the air as if to show that he wasn't holding any knives. Like that was something to apologize for. "I'm not going to hurt you! John has already told me about the game, and I _believe_ him. And you. Shhhhh. It's okay."

Dave slowly let go of his breath. "Really," he managed.

"Yes, really. And one of the reasons for that is that John knew my blood color, so all I was trying to do was to bring up a concrete example of why I sympathize with you."

"Cherry red," Dave mumbled, volunteering the answer before he was asked again. "Basic blood colored blood which is somehow a huge deal to everyone."

"Exactly." Karkat nodded. "It still feels fucking weird to have people just _know_ that. But anyway, the reason it's a huge deal is because it's a mutant color off the hemospectrum and being off the hemospectrum is a cullable offence. So what I'm trying to say is that my whole existence on Alternia is an illegal clusterfuck, just like yours and John's."

"Right." Dave shook his head slowly. "I get that." He still felt sick, but maybe that was just the basic condition he was in. "And it's not like I had a choice to begin with. I'm not going to win a strife against a hamster at the moment, so if you do want a piece of my hide I won't stop you." He paused. Fuck, he had to stop twitching. 

"Then it's good that we don't."

"So where did you take John?"

"He's in the cabin," Karkat said. "'Rosa would have put him in one of the comfy highblood seats. Actually, we should go there and join him if you're okay with it."

Dave nodded weakly. Being okay with it was an understatement. "That'd be great." He strained to turn around and glance at the door. "But I'm..." _...completely broken and on weirdo alien drugs and barely half-coherent._ Shit, he didn't want to say it like that.

"Do you want me to help?"

"Hell no, Striders gonna stride." Now _that_ was irony. Dave tested moving his right leg, as if something would have magically changed in the last four minutes. He grimaced at the small spike of more acute pain, then managed a shaky sigh. "Are you actually asking?"

"Yes, otherwise I wouldn't be asking." The Signless gave him another small smile. "You're in a much worse shape than John all things considered, so I'd say you deserve a comfortable seat at least as much. I think some nutrition fluid would help, too. But I'd have to carry you there, and I can't very well do that unless you can trust me enough to allow it."

Dave closed his eyes. What the hell was this thing. Like being treated as a person instead of an illegal space alien slash science project. "Fine," he said after 3.4 seconds, wiping the corners of his eyes under the shades with thumb and forefinger. So maybe he was a sucker for basic decency. What a stunning development. "Go ahead. I am too cool to freak out."

The Signless was actually gentle enough that he barely even jolted Dave's wounds. Maybe being carried around would have been humiliating back in another lifetime before Dave had a clue what that word meant, but no, it _was_ fine. Shit, let's be a princess.

The 'cabin' was even smaller than the cargo hold, with a row of regular public transit type seats on the long sides, which also had the doors – one from the cargo hold and one on the opposite side to somewhere else. There were also three larger and more comfy looking seats on each short side. The other two trolls had obviously turned invisible, or at least they were nowhere in sight, but John was – just as predicted – in one of the large seats. He still looked like a corpse to Dave, and there was no reaction when Dave got seated on his right.

Dave's good hand found John's wrist practically on auto-pilot. John's skin felt uncomfortably cold, but – yeah, heartbeat. And from here Dave could feel his chest softly rising and falling, too. It shouldn't be as much of a relief as it was – dying and staying dead might be the better part of valor in a place and timeline as fubar as this one, whether paradox space approved of it or not – but confirming that John was alive somehow put a lid on a good-sized chunk of the high-tension dread lounging in Dave's guts.

"Here," the Signless Karkat said, bringing him back to attention by unscrewing a plastic bottle of red-orange sludge and offering it to him. "It's tangerope juice. I figure you need something with more calories than water."

Dave reluctantly let go of John's arm to take the drink. It smelled sweet and unfamiliar, and just then it struck him with the force of John's sledgehammer exactly how rudely thirsty he was. The raw chafing in his throat was just another thing that hurt, and so low on the priority list of shittiness that thirst had barely registered. But fuck, this could be centaur sweat or Howie Mandel's piss and he'd still drink it.

Chugging it like a substance abuser with a fix, it turned out to be the sweetest nectar he'd never found in a closet on a hot summer day. This was a perfectly non-biased opinion. And maybe it was too good, because he barely got through half the bottle before choking like a bitch on a bone. Coughing made flashes of red-hot lava run through the flayed part of his chest, but hell, it was still worth it. He was alive and perhaps he even wanted to be. As soon as he got his lungs back under control he put the bottle to his lips again.

"Take it easy," the Signless warned him, because Dave was now an overexcited five-year-old and yeah, no. He gulped down the rest of the juice slightly slower, then sank back against the soft cushions of the seat, trying to breathe deeply and stop the fucking inexplicable sobs that suddenly rose inside him again. It didn't make any sense. Why the hell would he still want to cry? Someone must have cut off bits and pieces of his brain as well while they were at it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." _All is well, nothing to see here._ "I'm fine."

The Signless frowned, but nodded. "Good." He made a slight grimace. "Try to rest a bit. I'll be in the cockpit with the others, trying to get all of us out of this alive." He took the empty bottle and left by the door opposite the cargo hold, leaving it half open behind him.

Dave pressed his head into the backrest and stared blankly at the empty cabin in front of him. He lost the battle against some of the sobs hiccupping up his throat, but if it was just him and John's unconscious ass, maybe it didn't matter that he was a pathetic S.O.B. 

He could hear that all three of the trolls were having a discussion in the cockpit; at least he could hear them when they raised their voices. Frankly, that didn't make it any easier to relax.

"—but if we leave the prepurrogrammed route the protectalizers will fire on—"

"—we _can't_ land in the city—"

"—have to stay on course as long as possible so—"

"—chase us down even before that—"

"—knew landing would be the worst part—"

"—John should be able to—"

"—the fuck are we going to do if—"

Yeah. Of course he wasn't _safe_ , that would have been ridiculous. Even if these trolls had the best intentions they'd be terrorists up against pretty much _everything_. It was almost amusing, or it would have been if his guts hadn't been busy thinking up new ways to twist into eldritch abominations inside him.

So maybe he didn't hope to live after all. They might as well crash this thing into Troll Trade Center and be done with it. Being exploded into flaming debris would be about six hundred and twelve times more delightful than going back, and going back was still more than likely to happen. That idea entangled itself in the goddamn hateromantic clusterfuck between hope and despair in Dave's chest, and for one and a half second he thought he was going to throw all that juice back up.

Dave found John's hand and squeezed it for no reason at all. It didn't squeeze back, because John had left the building and all that shit, being the very epitome of an idle chum. Dave was on his own here, and he was completely cool with that.

He turned the iShades screen back on. Jade was still online.

EB: hey  
EB: jade  
GG: ...john?  
EB: yes im john the goddamn superhero egbert dropping wind and swoosh like its too hot to handle  
GG: dave!!!? :o  
EB: yeah  
GG: oh god dave youre alive!! :D  
GG: i was so worried!!  
GG: did you get out?  
GG: where are you?  
GG: is john there too?  
EB: wait  
\-- ectoBiologist  [EB] ceased pestering gardenGnostic  [GG] \--

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] \--  
TG: there  
TG: no  
TG: fuck  
TG: WHY  
TG:   
TG:   
TG:   
TG:   
TG:   
TG:   
TG:   
GG: ...?  
TG: exactly  
GG: what just happened?  
TG: nothing happened moving on  
TG: are you in one piece and do you still have all of your skin  
GG: oh god :(  
GG: yes i am in one piece  
GG: im a bit bruised but its not so bad  
GG: and im not a captive or anything anymore!  
GG: and, um...  
GG: there was a close call with a horrible whip a while ago, but in the end no one hit me with it  
GG: so im fine and i didnt lose any skin  
TG: great thats great  
GG: did something like that happen to you? :(  
TG: what no  
TG: no whips  
TG: when are you the troll 16th century  
GG: no!  
GG: i think were probably all at the same time  
GG: only not in the same place  
TG: yeah i figured  
TG: so all of us means rose is here too  
GG: yeah...  
TG: fuck  
TG: thats expected cant be hoping one of us made it home instead of being stuck in hellsville can we  
GG: its good that were all here, though!  
GG: we can work together to FIX this!!  
GG: there has to be SOMETHING we can do!!!  
TG: yeah  
TG: sure  
GG: yes! <3  
GG: is john still with you?  
TG: yes but hes unconscious  
TG: went out like municipal electricity in a hurricane  
TG: or a campfire running out of firewood i guess  
TG: lucky bastard  
GG: ...  
GG: what happened to him?  
TG: he was tired  
GG: dave  
GG: are you alright? ._.  
TG: im fabulous and for my next circus trick im going to make an acrobatic pirouette off a handle while juggling broken swords  
GG: yes, i believe you are being totally serious in every way  
GG: it was the government, wasnt it?  
TG: i guess  
GG: john said you were hurt  
GG: what did they do to you??  
TG: nothing  
TG: i dont want to talk about it  
GG: ok  
GG: i wont pressure you  
GG: im just... worried :|  
GG: can you at least tell me where you are now?  
TG: im in a space ship  
GG: really??? :O  
TG: yeah  
TG: dunno exactly where somewhere in orbit over alternia i suppose  
GG: um  
GG: does that mean youre still prisoners? :(  
TG: no  
TG: well  
TG: its sort of a fine line to draw between captive and guest when youre literally defenseless and there are three adult trolls in the next room planning to do whatever with whoever but  
TG: john trusted them and theyve been the opposite of aggressive and intimidating so far  
TG: and i think this is basically their idea of an escape vessel  
TG: so yeah  
GG: you did escape!! :D  
TG: more like john sprung me while i was a useless meatloaf before he collapsificated like theres only so much suckitude he could compensate for  
GG: O_O  
TG: but  
TG: im  
TG: nothing nevermind  
GG: dave dont be so hard on yourself  
GG: i know what you mean about feeling defenseless...  
GG: ive been kicking myself silly for being so helpless against all the horrible douchebag trolls :|  
GG: but in the end i guess theres only so much one of us can do alone  
GG: and im pretty sure that applies to the windy gods among us too  
GG: so its a very good thing that you have help  
TG: i know  
TG: do you have help  
GG: yep, i have a new friend too :)  
GG: ohhh!!  
GG: i can send you a map that shows where i am!!  
GG: and maybe you can find me in your spaceship!!!

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] sent turntechGodhead [TG] the file "iamhere.map" --

TG: thatd be cool  
TG: naturally these trolls will immediately take me exactly where i want to go even if its the middle of the ocean wtf  
GG: im on a shipwreck :P  
GG: its a long story that involves shenanigans  
TG: oh yeah shipwreck right  
TG: well if it involves shenanigans all is clear  
GG: brb!!!!!  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] is now an idle chum --

_What._

Right at that moment Dave was startled by a noise from the cockpit. It sounded like a strangled cry of pain. 


	35. Rose (?)

She was power, power made of darkness, rage and void. She was a being from the other side, or a vessel for such beings; she was everything and yet nothing. She was a creation of the emptiness beyond reality itself, manifested in the here and now, free and unleashed. Nothing could hurt her or bind her ever again. The meaningless mortals around her screamed and died, and she reveled in her own existence.

She was an Elder One, newborn. The paradox amused her.

Within her was a web of voices, the songs of her brethren mingling inside her in an eternal snarl, spiraling well beyond the edges of mortal perception, enveloping her in sound and music and words no mortal should ever have to hear. It was impossible to tell where one voice ended and another began, but the very question was ludicrous in its irrelevancy. She was every one of them and none.

There was one voice of discord among the many in unison, a voice different from all the others in its tone and shape and range. Only that voice knew fear, but it was of no consequence. Whether it screamed or pleaded or struggled in feeble desperation for a mere subtle change of her punishment of the lesser beings crawling and squirming below, the disharmonious voice had no real power or substance. It drowned within the timeless chorus inside her, and she had no doubt that it would eventually surrender and fade away like the minor nuisance it was.

Eventually her attention was drawn by a voice from without. The cries of the mortals meant very little to her, not even the one screaming a name that the dissenting part of her self begged for her to recognize, but this particular voice was nothing like them. It was more quiet than a whisper, no more than a faint caress of her mind, but nevertheless it echoed throughout her being with enough force to verge on a challenge. It was no part of her inner song, no voice from furthest darkness, but yet it spoke to her in the same tones and the same maddening cadence. The voice originated right here, on this particular globe in this particular mortal universe, but its source could be nothing but a dark god. She had not expected it. The unexpected intrigued her.

_sister_

The word itself was eldrich, meaningless in any mortal context, but the approximate connotation of familiar likeness was there. She recognized it for what it was: a call, a beckoning. It would not go unanswered.

The sea rose up to meet her as she left the remains of the small ones' waterborne shelters behind. The ocean was no different from the sky to traverse. Pressure, density and substance mattered none to the powers she wielded. Neither did the length of the journey, and though she did not dally, neither did she race.

A few mortal creatures of various shapes and sizes saw her pass. She killed a few, left others to bleed, and ignored the rest according to her whim. They were all unimportant in the current now. Later, she might travel from one end to another of this moonlit world, seeking them out in their holes, pulling their bodies and minds apart, tasting each of them for the right shade of terror, but not yet. Her thirst was outweighed by the beckoning voice from the deep. The call must be answered first.

Deeper and deeper she went, the voices within her singing in anticipation as well as inexplicable trepidation. The outside voice was unknown to her. It was a lost one, one of her own kind but not of her swarm, not of the Furthest Ring. An eldrich god in a mortal world, with no ties to the great beyond. Its existence was a riddle to every part of her. 

The voice grew clearer as she approached its source, diving into the darkest trench at the deepest part of the ocean. The faint whisper echoed between its walls.

 _sister sister sister_

Finally, the being appeared before her. It was a pearly white mountain of tentacles, eyes and mouths gaping in the darkness, and its sheer size told her that the creature was truly ancient and ageless in a way she herself was yet not. One of its minor tentacles touched hers, and for the first time since her creation she felt small. She was the lesser one of the two, newly made, the source of her power fragile and distant beyond comprehension. The discordant voice within her struggled for control in the face of her hesitation, though its effort was vain and futile.

_"I am here."_

She spoke the words by the same tongue as the creature before her, an icy string of whispered sounds, each syllable saying more than could have been rendered in mortal language. It was a statement, a description, and a question.

_i am gl'bgolyb_

It was a name, but it was more complex and more terrifying than a simple sound. In it, she heard traces of an unknowable guardian with power beyond the scope of either of them, echoes of eons of isolation, shreds of an unthinkable symbiosis with mortal creatures.

She did not have anything equivalent to give. Her attempt at naming herself smelled of black roses, destruction, and a strange edge of regret.

_i see you_

_why are you here_

The question encompassed much more than the dark ocean trench. Gl'bgolyb wanted to know why she existed on this world, in this universe. In truth, she existed because every voice in her mind, even the disharmonious one, had desired her creation. That was all the answer she could present. 

_"I came to be from mortal despair and the pleasure of the beyond."_

Her brethren in the great void rejoiced and sang within her, filling her with power and desires and the knowledge of what she was. Nevertheless, the great lost sister before her oozed nothing but a vague disapproval and something a mortal might have thought of as similar to pity.

_little sister_

_you have no purpose_

_you do not belong_

She wondered what it could mean. 'Belonging' was an irrelevant concept to the gods of the void. Yet, in the pale god's words lay a hint of possessiveness as well as a glimpse of the vast gulf of wrongness that was her own presence here. 

'Wrong' was an irrelevant concept as well. She did not understand it.

_"Neither do you."_

_"We never belonged among the frogs and the created universes."_

_"That we exist at all is proof enough that paradox space allows it."_

Gl'bgolyb's many features moved along its undulating body, never changing its appearance to anything less than grotesque. It knew the truth as well as the falsehood of her claims.

_this is my world_

It was. The bonds between the god and the planet and its mortal population shone within its words, and no more explanation was needed. The concept was beyond the strange. Her body wriggled, pulling her black limbs closer to her frailer core. 

She wished to stay. She harbored an ocean of residual rage, a thirst for the suffering of this world's populations, a hunger for revenge for wrongs she could barely remember. Yet she realized that Gl'bgolyb had somehow existed on this world for linear ages, never bleeding it dry, allowing the mortals to live and even prosper. She could not imagine what could keep an Elder God bound thus. More, she could not imagine accepting it without resentment.

_"You have rested here for too many eons."_

In her words glared the question of why, but Gl'bgolyb did not deign to explain the inexplicable. Instead, it repeated itself.

_this is my world_

_these are my mortals_

_mine to help or hinder_

_mine to raise or slaughter_

_mine_

The eldrich words were forceful enough to take her back. They contained a trace of scorn for the bloodshed she had already committed, a tinge of even more distinct pity, and the threat in them was explicit in a way it would not have been if rendered in mortal tongues.

She was unprepared for this. The voices inside her slowly fell into disarray, whispering for her to stand her ground, flee, argue, aggress. She hovered motionless in the dark water, tentacles billowing softly around her, unable to fix on the obvious course of action.

_you do not belong_

Belonging was not the issue, but this time Gl'bgolyb's words contained an element of doubting that she existed at all. The dissonant voice within her cried out wordlessly in faint hope, as if it wished for her own non-existence. 

_leave my world_

It was a sweet, dark world. It was filled with delectable mortals and she bore a deep thirst for their pain. The Elder One could not bond itself to it, limiting the freedom of them both. Nevertheless, it did.

_return whence you came_

Even if she had wished it, there was no place in space and time for her to retire to. She was of the void, but not from it, and the furthest ring was closed to her.

The voices within were still singing, but the song was now in disharmony, merging into an almost toneless noise. Only the one voice which had seemed discordant before grew stronger and clearer, pleading for her to return indeed, to be undone and dissipate back into emptiness and grief. 

It made her angry. 

Her tentacles flared. She raged out loud, most of her voices in back in a unified chorus.

_"No."_

_"I am here, sister."_

_"I am as you are."_

The voice of discord screamed that she was not. The greater god should not have been able to hear it, yet it echoed the words.

_you are not_

_you need to go_

Her tentacles flared again.

_"No."_

Gl'bgolyb raised its voice from a whisper to a murmur.

_**go** _

The word made reality tremble. The actual sound of it was barely louder than the whisper, but within it was something deeper, something that traveled instantly to every corner of the planet, perhaps the universe. She could sense in a spike of suffering how it burned attuned mortal minds like a touch of smoldering iron.

Her own mind should have been immune to the effect, and if the Gl'bgolyb's whisper had been as a caress of her mind, this was merely as a gentle scratch. In spite of that, it scattered her resistance as well as her hesitation. She went, unable to do otherwise, every single voice within her united in the wish to leave.

Only one voice knew where to go.


	36. Jade

Jade was startled into half-panicked alertness when the Psionic suddenly whimpered loudly and collapsed into a boneless heap next to her. Her first thought was of attacks; someone had survived and found them and _god fucking dammit_ , she wasn't going to _allow_ any more disasters! One hand went for the cutlass even while the other typed a quick 'brb' for Dave, and the next moment she was on her feet, scanning frantically for any sign of an aggressor. She could only hope that she would get at least a chance to defend herself – she had a foothold and a weapon this time, but that wouldn't do much against someone like Mindfang.

All she could make out was the double moonlight glittering on the ocean and the wreckage. It still looked completely lifeless.

The Psionic's red and blue eyes were still shining up at her, though less brightly than a moment ago, and he was breathing heavily. Jade's heart felt like it was beating all the way up in her throat as she crouched down again by his side. "What happened?" she managed. "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine," the Psionic answered weakly. "It wasn't—wasn't bad enough to affect performance."

That was a silly way to put it, almost like an automated response. It wasn't all that reassuring either. " _What_ wasn't bad enough?" Just looking, Jade couldn't see anything wrong with the Psionic besides the obvious. Not that she could see much of his body now that he was wearing a coat, but he didn't seem to be bleeding or anything visibly horrible like that. "I don't understand! What happened?"

"A damned Glub," the Psionic said, as if that was an answer. When Jade just blinked at him, the corners of his mouth twisted into a faint smile. "Okay, right. Eheh." He took a deep breath. "You're an alien with no thcoolfeeding whatsoever, and I guess aliens count as highbloods now, tho you didn't even hear it?"

"A glub?"

"Yes."The Psionic's eyes flashed slightly as he looked up at Jade, but he didn't move. "It's the empress' lusus," he explained in a sing-song recital tone. "The great and horrorful Glb'golyb, the eternal one in the deep, worthy of raising Her Imperious Condescension herself. Thometimes Her Condescension shows how much she hates us all by letting it Glub." He grimaced. "Basically it feels like a drill to the thkull, except it doesn't hurt the highbloods at all, and it's worse the lower you are. Thome rustbloods die, but I guess that's a pretty easy way to go."

"Oh." Jade had to process that. "You mean it was just a random thing? It wasn't anyone attacking you personally?"

"Not personally, no. Thorry if I made you think that."

Jade tried to force her heart down where it belonged. No actual enemies. They were still safe, for certain definitions of safe. Though now she started to realize the implications. "Wait. This creature just makes a sound and people miles away fall over and sometimes _die_?"

"Yes, except it's more like a psychic noise than a thound, and it's only a handful of people that die, tho it doesn't really hurt the empire. It's not like it happens often, either, tho yeah. Apparently if Glb'golyb glubbed louder it could kill everyone and even the highbloods, but I thort of doubt the empress hates us _that_ much."

"That sounds..." Jade hesitated, but decided on the most fitting word. "...horribleterrible." She was pretty sure Feferi had mentioned her lusus and implied that it was great and powerful, but Jade hadn't expected anything like what the Psionic described. It would explain a lot of not necessarily nice things about Alternia if its queen was practically raised by a _horrorterror_ , even though Feferi had been perfectly nice and just a little bit weird. Maybe it explained how Feferi could have been so comfortable with the Lords of the Furthest Ring, though. Jade shuddered. Sure, Bec had been borderline omnipotent, but he'd been a good dog! Also, speaking of horrorterrors— "Do you think this had anything to do with Rose?"

The Psionic blinked. "Shit. She was going into the ocean, tho it's not even impossible that she went all the way down to the monster in the deep and pissed it off thomehow."

"Oh noo." Jade bit her lip, the knot of despair in her guts that she was trying to hold at bay growing larger and more intrusive. Maybe Rose in her present state _would_ have decided to go fight the biggest monster on the planet. She wasn't even sure if that would make anything technically worse, because she didn't know how to get to Rose anyway, but...

"Even if she thurvived, that'd be like walking up to the Condesce and thaying hello, I'm the new hideously mutated monster in town, please cull me now." The Psionic sighed.

"Oh god, Rose." Jade shivered despite the sweater.

"Yeah. That thums it up nicely."

Jade clenched her fists and shook her head. Maybe that had happened and maybe something completely different was going on, but there was no way she was going to accept that there was no hope. They were going to find a way to call Rose back before the troll empress managed to kill her, but first they had to survive themselves! "We can't do anything about that right now, so we have to do something about the stuff we _can_! Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"Yes, Jade." It sounded almost like a reflex, but she had to believe him. "I'm fine and also functional."

"Good!" She looked away and found the blurry light from the distant ship that she had noticed before, wondering if it was her imagination or if it really looked like it had come visibly closer. Maybe they had to hurry. She turned back to Dave on the virtual computer screen.

GG: im back!   
GG: sorry about going away like that   
GG: are you still there?   
TG: god   
TG: ok good   
TG: youre still alive that wasnt the slightest bit uncanny   
GG: im sorry! :(   
TG: karkat vantas v2 chose that moment to have a heart attack for extra points on the trippy high score   
GG: i was startled by something but it turned out to be ok!   
GG: wait a heart attack literally??   
TG: yeah   
TG: i think   
TG: he sounds fine now i didnt ask   
TG: im the king of useless and the situation here practically doesnt even concern me at this point   
GG: dave dont talk like that!! D:   
GG: actually maybe that was the same thing that happened here?   
GG: the empress lusus just made some horrible glub that hurt a lot of people   
GG: so maybe it reached you too   
GG: the psionic says it would   
TG: ok yeah   
TG: maybe it was a monster hiccup that sounds much better   
TG: hey jade   
GG: yes?   
TG: i   
TG: fuck   
TG: stay safe ok   
GG: you too!!   
GG: and yes, i intend to do my best to stay safe   
GG: speaking of which   
GG: have you talked to anyone about that map i sent you?   
TG: not yet   
GG: do that as soon as you can!   
GG: meanwhile i think it would be a lot safer on land than floating on a piece of wreckage   
GG: so im going to try to see if the psionic can take us to that gartana peninsula to the north somehow   
TG: youre with a magic troll now   
GG: yes thats what psionic means!!   
GG: i think :o   
TG: cool   
GG: maybe you could get your space ship to land on the southern edge of gartana?   
GG: ill keep you updated!!   
GG: and you tell me what happens on your end   
TG: yeah   
TG: ok

Ugh. Dave didn't sound well, and Jade was pretty sure he was hurt worse than he wanted to acknowledge. But it did seem like he was sort of safe for now, and that she would see him soon. She would actually see him soon, and John, too! Maybe she was making a cowardly choice not to try to go after Rose immediately, but even if it was possible it would probably be suicide – and the possibility of seeing Dave and John again safely made her feel almost dizzy with longing and hope despite the creeping worry. They _would_ be alright. And they'd figure out how to save Rose together. She had to believe it.

The Psionic still hadn't moved, but he obeyed when Jade asked him if he could sit up again. She didn't command him, only ask, but he more or less acted like he was following orders with a quiet "Yes, Jade," and a tiny electrical sparkle from his eyes as he raised his back in defiance of physics and muscle atrophy until he was sitting as he had before. "Tho I guess your friends did get away," he said, glancing at the projected chat log. "That's cool."

"It's very cool!" Jade agreed.

"I don't get what they'll do, though. Unless they're just waiting to be thpectacularly culled, which is pretty likely when you think about it. RS thaid you don't even have a planet left to go back to. It's not like you can just ditch thociety and everything and be thomething completely different."

Jade snorted slightly. "What do we have to lose? It seems to me we're all going to be spectacularly culled if we _don't_ save ourselves somehow."

"Yeah." The Psionic grimaced. "That's true too, unless there's thomeone like the Marquise who wants you for a thlave."

"Considering how Mindfang treated me and Rose, I don't think I like that alternative!" Jade shook her head. "I'm trying to arrange for us to meet up with Dave and John and their friends, but we probably need to get off this wreck, first."

"Okay, but how? The ship is kind of gone."

"Well..." Jade turned off the virtual screen and started putting her soggy socks and shoes back on. "You're telekinetic! How strong are you?"

The Psionic looked slightly pained. "No, I just told you, the ship is gone. Look around you. There's nothing for me to pilot."

"Well, obviously not a ship, but..." Jade sighed. Of course he'd say something like that. "I understand that you're uncomfortable with using your powers on your own, but you're already doing it a little bit! Just do it a little bit more! Maybe you can push us around on something simple, like a raft? Or maybe you can even fly us?"

The Psionic's face tensed. "That's _not_ how you use a helmsman."

"Of course not," Jade said. "But I don't want to use a helmsman!"

"I know, but you want to use a 'free psionic' like that is even a thing that exists!" He grimaced, sagging slightly like he wasn't sure if he should keep holding himself up. His voice sank. "You theriously want me to fly around like an unharvested wiggler like there was not a thingle shit wrong with it?"

Jade nodded emphatically. "Yes, but that's because there _is_ nothing wrong with it!"

The Psionic made an uncomfortable whimper deep in his throat, but refused to reply or even meet Jade's eyes. Maybe he needed some time to get used to this thought too, but at least he had admitted he was able to fly, and that was good.

"I promise, it's okay," Jade said, shuffling closer give him a quick hug again. "You're the only one able to help both me and yourself right now, and there's every reason to do it and not a single reason not to! You don't have a lot to lose either, do you?"

The Psionic didn't reply but kept staring at his own legs, his face conflicted. 

"But I thought you had already agreed that it was okay to use your powers!"

Silence.

Jade turned around to point at the blurry light from the ship in the distance. "Can you see if that ship is still coming this way?" she asked.

The Psionic nodded. "Yes," he said tonelessly. "Pretty good thpeed, too. It's like they know there's thome treasure to be found here."

"God, I hope not," Jade mumbled. "Look, you and I aren't treasure to be salvaged, we're _people_! Do you really think it's a good idea to be here when they arrive?"

There was a spark of red and blue along the Psionic's right arm as he raised it and looked at his hand. "I don't—I don't know."

"But why not?" Jade was caught between pity and annoyance. "They'd only hurt you and make you an engine slave again!"

"Yes, because that's the way it _should_ be." The Psionic definitely looked pained now, and his voice was barely audible. " I'm not thupposed to—I'm a helmsman. It would be great if they got me mounted like a proper helmsman again, like the world made thense. Me being a helmsman is a fact, and I have to cooperate with the facts, otherwise it'll be tho much worse." His entire body was trembling almost imperceptibly. "It's just the way things are and I'm already a fucking abomination, tho—" 

"You're not an abomination!" Jade wracked her brain for things to say. This wasn't something anyone should have to hesitate over. Of course he shouldn't want to be tied up into an engine again. She really didn't want to know what had happened to make him like this, but she still had to convince him to see sense. "Look, I think it's great that you're sitting up, and it was awesome that you fixed my computer! You're doing nothing wrong, and in fact you're doing great! And it would be even more awesome if you could use your powers to help us get away from here." She paused, and the knots in her stomach tangled further when he still didn't reply. "Even if you want to be a slave again, I don't! I'll fight them, and if I'm captured I'm never going to stop trying to escape, unless they kill me in some horrible way first. But right now we're both free, and it would be so much better if we could stay that way!"

"That's alien logic," the Psionic said tensely. "Rose refused to thee reality, too. Maybe I've already gone too far – maybe I will turn into a monster, too. Is that what you want?" 

"Not really! But if you think not being a helmsman means being a monster, then maybe yes? It would be a good kind of monster, though!"

The Psionic took several deep breaths, like he was trying to ground himself. "I could. I could but I'm—" He hesitated for a moment, now trembling obviously. "Would you give me a direct order?" he finally asked.

Jade hesitated. "Would that really make a difference? I told you – I don't own you, so you don't have to obey me!"

"Yes, you thaid that, but I don't think I—" Some of his trembles might have been suppressed sobs.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes," he whispered. "Please."

Jade swallowed, then nodded. "Okay then," she said. The Psionic obviously had issues on his issues, but if he _wanted_ her to give the order, then it wouldn't really be her forcing him to do stuff, would it? She wasn't sure they had time to argue the point if she wanted him to save both their lives. "Then I formally order you to use your psionic powers to fly the two of us from here to the Gartana peninsula!"

"Yes, mistress," the Psionic said, and it was strange how he seemed more at ease than he'd been a moment ago. Jade didn't like the way he'd reverted to calling her 'mistress', but she made herself shrug it off for the sake of this one direct order. She'd argue about it if he kept it up once they were safe. The Psionic raised his head and added, in a carefully even voice, "Without navigational thystems, how do I know which way to go?"

"We'll have to find out the compass directions." Jade did have that excellent digital map, but the problem was knowing which way was north in the real world so she could orient it. It would have been easy on Earth, but Alternia was not the same thing. "You don't happen to know the exact direction the purple moon rises from in this part of the world?" 

"No, I don't. But I'd guess the network does."

"Yes, I think so too." Jade turned the computer screen back on, and it turned out the network did know. Now that Jade had made the actual decision the Psionic seemed happy to help her navigate the troll internet to find out how to check the expected positions of the moons in this hemisphere and the current season, and since Jade had watched the purple moon rise, it wasn't hard to use that to determine compass directions. Once she knew, it felt obvious, like she should have known all along, like the Alternian maps finally clicked into place with the space she saw around her. It wasn't a thorough epiphany like when Dualscar had tried to kill her, but still enough that she could almost _sense_ the distance between them and the coast, and she didn't think she'd be able to get lost. She certainly wasn't _completely_ helpless.

Since that didn't take long, she also decided to waste a few minutes to pick some more of those alien clams. It never hurt to bring something edible when you had no idea where you'd get your next meal. She gathered them in a folded-up skirt from the pile of extra clothes she had discarded – the lack of a sylladex was annoying, but as far as problems went it was the least of her worries, and it wasn't that hard to get around.

"Let's go, then." She pointed in the direction that would take them straight to the nearest coast. It was at a 95 degree angle from the approaching ship. 

"Acknowledged." The Psionic clamped his teeth shut like he was still trying to fight himself on this, but he raised himself up to a standing position, and then hovered in midair before her. Red and blue sparks erupted almost constantly from his eyes and more intermittently from all over his body. He wobbled slightly, but Jade grinned and this time she did clap her hands.

"Yay! You're awesome, thank you."

"No," the Psionic said dryly. "I'm an insane rogue and a shitstain on the thurface of the empire, and you should cull me or put me to use, not just thtand there." He gave her a tight smile, as if not sure if he wanted to laugh or scream. "I guess you do want to use an insane helmsman, tho yeah. Here." He reached out his right hand and Jade took it, and the next moment she was enveloped in flickering sparks as well.

It tingled on her skin, but at least it didn't hurt. That was a relief. Jade found herself rising from the ground by his side, and then they were off, leaving the remains of Mindfang's ships and crew behind them and flying low over the sea.

The wind whipped inordinate amounts of hair in Jade's face and stung in her bruised eye, but she didn't even care. It was silly, but somehow it felt like she could breathe easier, despite all the tension and uncertainties and worries. For the first time since she ended up on this planet she knew exactly where she was and where she was going. The air was still chilly, but she wasn't cold any longer. She was alive – and no matter what else had happened, her friends were all alive too. She'd get them back.

She sent a note to Dave that she was on her way, only getting a terse 'ok' back. Handling the computer in mid-air was tricky enough that she turned the screen off without trying to get into a conversation, but she'd still be pinged if Dave wanted her attention.

The Psionic flew pretty fast, but not very steadily. He kept swaying like he was losing his balance, then cursing and apologizing about it. Jade soon found herself clinging to his side with both arms. That made her steadier relative to him, but he still wobbled in mid-air, and the red and blue electrical charges started to make her skin prickle. She tried to ask if he was alright, but all she got in reply was another tight grin and the stock reassurance that he was "fully functional".

"Fuck, I'm thorry," the Psionic mumbled under his breath for about the twentieth time, as he wobbled particularly violently.

"It's okay," Jade assured him once again. "Stop apologizing! You're doing great for flying at all! Stop worrying about it, just take us forward. Wait, maybe a little more to the left." She pointed.

"Fine, I'm thorry for being thorry," the Psionic muttered as he corrected their course. He had sunk to a point less than two feet from the surface of the sea, but was rising again. "I will thtop apologizing and go in a fucking thtraight line like I had a ship to helm and wasn't an abominable freak." He sparked brightly, making Jade's arms twitch from the charge.

"You're not a freak," Jade insisted. "You have powers and use them in a practical way. I really think it would be silly not to do that!"

"And you ordered me to. Tho it's fine." It was like he needed to keep convincing himself.

Maybe he had to keep fighting his own instincts, or at least whatever indoctrination he had been subjected to. Jade could only hope he wasn't about to lose that battle and drop both of them in the sea. Or if he did, she hoped he knew at least the basics about swimming.

She tried to keep an eye behind them as well, and soon enough she found out something she had hoped wouldn't be true. The unknown ship had indeed gone straight for the wreckage, as if it had been looking for it. Jade couldn't actually make out anything other than that the light source stayed at the wreckage location for a while, but when she suspected it had started moving again, she had to ask the Psionic to turn around and have a look with his better eyes.

"Yes, you're right," the Psionic confirmed. "It's turned around. It's also coming this way." His voice was slightly strained.

"Oh no," Jade said. "Do you think you can outrun it?"

"I don't know." He paused. "Shit." The Psionic swayed violently again, but then he focused his attention forward, not looking at Jade. "You should probably know that I recognized the masts," he said, his eyes sparking brightly. "It's one of the Marquise's."

"What?" Jade wrapped her arms harder around him. "Mindfang's? How many ships did she have?"

"Eight main ones and thome auxiliaries. That's one of the mains. I think it's the _Defalcator_ , but I'm not sure."

"But how could Mindfang's other ship know what happened to her? Did they manage to send a radio signal or a psychic message or—"

"I don't know!" The Psionic had increased speed slightly, but the flight path became even shakier. He sounded almost scared, and Jade could feel her guts curl up into knots again. Why would they be turning this way after looking at the wreckage? She didn't want to meet _anyone_ out here, but she wanted to meet Mindfang's henchmen even less. She had no idea what they'd decide to do to her if they knew she was partially involved in the death and destruction of their marquise and almost half the fleet, but it would definitely be awful. And the nicest thing they'd do to the Psionic would be to put him back into an engine, but she was pretty sure they'd punish him for all the things he'd been saying he mustn't do, too. _Damn it, no._

"Do you think they know we're here?"

"Maybe. I make thtupid thparkles all over the thtupid thea, tho they probably thee us if they try to look."

"Yeah." Jade squinted at the small light source. It suddenly looked even more menacing than it had. "Then we _have_ to outrun them." She considered for a moment to ask the Psionic to play dead instead and lie low in the water for a while until the ship lost them, but if they had really been spotted the ship might still come over to check, and then they would have lost all the headway they had. "We just have to!"

"Yeah. Okay." The Psionic didn't say much more but refocused on levitating them forward. After a little while Jade realized he wasn't actually flying smoother now. Maybe he had finally made his own decision that he wanted to do this; that made Jade strangely proud of him despite everything. The fact that she wasn't able to assist in flying except to make sure he stayed on the right course made her feel annoyingly helpless again, though, but it was different from before. The Psionic was a friend, not an unpredictable enemy, and they were in trouble together. If anything she felt a little guilty for persuading him to break his own rules, but she hadn't really had much choice about it. Now she just had to trust him.

As far as Jade could make out, the ship was gaining on them, but only very slowly. She hadn't been able to keep close track on time, but it had been quite a while after the Psionic had identified the ship when he suddenly jerked to a stop and dipped far enough to make their feet touch the water for a second. 

Jade made a startled sound, but the next moment he rose again, still traveling straight forward. But now Jade could feel that he was trembling again.

"What happened just now?"

The Psionic mumbled something that might have been "Oh my god," and kept going.

"Psionic! Are you okay?" Jade struggled to catch his eyes, but when she managed to get her own and his hair out of the way she noticed that he was smiling – no, laughing. Giggling, even, a crazed uncontrollable kind of giggle that shook through his whole body and didn't seem the slightest bit reassuring.

"Yeah," he finally managed, then broke into a fit of giggles that almost looked like sobs. "I'm great. I'm—"

"It sounds like you're completely hysteric!" Jade said. "What's going on? Are you hurt again?"

"No. Yes. Telepath."

 _Oh no._ That was at least an explanation. Jade's arms tightened around the Psionic, as if she could physically will him not to be mind controlled. It would be so unfair if he was forced to turn them in. They'd come so far! 

"Please resist them," she said earnestly, even though she knew how impossible that could be. "You can't turn around now!" Glancing behind them she still couldn't make out the ship as a ship, but it was close enough that even without glasses she could see that there were more than one light on board. 

Unexpectedly, the Psionic didn't actually turn around. His crazy laughter seemed almost desperate, like it was that or falling to pieces in some even worse way, but somehow he kept going in the right direction. When he abruptly stopped giggling Jade almost winced, but he still didn't stop moving.

"I—I told her to fuck off," he gasped. "Like, that's actually a thing I did."

 _Oh._ Jade almost sobbed in relief, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. " _Thank_ you," she mumbled. It wasn't that far to the shore now. She would probably have been able to see it on the horizon if she'd had sharper eyes. Maybe they'd make it after all. "Does that mean the telepath couldn't mind control you at all?" she asked. "Or will she try again?"

"I have no idea. Ehehehe." It was only a slightly more controlled giggle this time. "JD," he added, like he suddenly couldn't pronounce her name correctly, "I think I _am_ insane. What if the crew mixed up my nutritions and this is all a fevered hallucination? What then?" 

"Um." Jade wasn't sure what to say to that. "But it's not! Why would you think it is?"

"The Marquise Thpinneret Mindfang is dead, and ghosts have never been a thing I could hear, but I could thwear she was the one who touched my mind just now. And then I told her to fuck off, tho she did. Nothing makes thense." He was trembling again, and this time Jade could see yellow-tinted tears running down his cheeks.

"Oh my god." 

"God is a shitstain on a highblood's underwear."

"No, I mean, what if she _did_ survive?" It had been sort of hectic right then, but Jade didn't think she had actually witnessed Mindfang's death. It seemed very unlikely that she'd made it thought all that carnage, and Rose definitely wouldn't have spared Mindfang on purpose, but Vriska's thing had been luck, hadn't it?

"Then she wouldn't have just let us thit there and chat and do impossible things. And especially not leave like a couple of flapping thonar creatures."

"She might if she was unconscious at the time! And maybe badly wounded?" Jade was sure she had seen Mindfang bleed, at least. "Perhaps she managed to call for help to that other ship but no do anything more? She could have a concussion or something so that she's not doing very well with the mind controlling!" The more Jade thought about it, the more possible it seemed. "I don't think you're hallucinating at all. You know her, and if you say that's her, then I believe you."

"But she's thtill—" The Psionic hesitated, raising his left hand to wipe the tears away. "It thucks in either case."

"Yeah," Jade admitted. "Please hurry."


End file.
